Every Move You Make
by Copper Tragic
Summary: Estel accompanies a negotiations committee headed by Elladan and Elrohir. But when something goes wrong, Estel and Legolas, who has met an edan for the first time, are forced to make difficult decisions, and face things they would rather deny.
1. Legolas

"Magnet students will slide if you let them slide, because they are just like other kids. But if you push them, they will do incredible things."  
  
~Mr. Akeson (my math teacher)  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof.  
  
This story is the second in a series, the first is called 'Tearful at the Falling of a Star'. Each can go on their own, if you don't feel like reading the other, but there may be references later in this series. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this story!  
  
*****Present date:  
  
"Estel?" Legolas called softly, knocking on his friend's door. "May I come in?" The door gave way as he knocked. Gently, unsure, Legolas rested one hand on the doorknob. Would it be all right if he went in? Estel might mind, might consider it an invasion of his privacy. Yet Legolas felt intimate with the edan, even after so short a time of knowing him, and so took a great chance and swung open the door.  
  
The smell hit him first. It was an old, stale smell, a smell of air kept pent up for far too long in too small a space. It was a smell of rot, and a smell of decay. Legolas's thoughts went to gangrene, which he had smelled only once in his life: the rotting away of flesh on the still-living body. Somewhere, in this foul-smelling room, was Estel, and so Legolas took a step in and shut the door behind him.  
  
It was dark inside, taking a moment for even Elven eyes to adjust. Dust floated about, not seeming to care where it went and on what it landed. Legolas flinch; dust was composed largely of dead skin. He kept on going however, toeing aside a soiled tunic, which he identified as the one Estel rode in wearing one week past. Legolas, not looking where he was going, felt his foot sink into something loathsome--and looking, he saw that it was indeed a sandwich, gone wrong.  
  
In the darkness, Legolas picked his way across the room to the bed. Estel was buried beneath the coverlet, one arm hanging limply out from beneath the covers. The knuckles of his hand nearly brushed the floor, but not quite. Though his skin was still darker than an Elf's skin might be, it had lightened from the tan color it had turned after so much exposure to the sun.  
  
"Estel," Legolas said, laying a hand on his friend's back and shaking him slightly. "Wake up, Estel."  
  
"No," groaned the bedsheets. "Go away."  
  
"Come on, you lazy edan," Legolas joked, throwing open the curtains over the window. He moved to pull away Estel's coverlet, but did not manage: Estel caught his wrist. "And why in Arda not?" demanded the Elven prince.  
  
"I'm not dressed," Estel informed him. "Not decently, at any rate. . ."  
  
Legolas thought on this, then grabbed the coverlet and, in one swift motion, yanked it away. "You have nothing I have not seen before," he informed his undershorts-clad young friend. Estel was splayed across the mattress in an odd fashion; his appendages spread out, his face pressed into his pillow. "Now, this will not do," said Legolas, grasping Estel's shoulders and pulling the younger boy into sitting position.  
  
"No," Estel protested, limp black hair falling into his grey-blue eyes and away from them again. Estel slumped his shoulders, hands like rags lying on his thighs. Gooseflesh rose on his arms, but he could not be bothered about it.  
  
Seeing that Estel would do nothing, Legolas crossed to the dresser and plucked out a clean tunic and clean trousers. As an afterthought, he grabbed a hairbrush before returning to his friend. Legolas handed the clothing to Estel, who seemed not to know what to do with it. He was no longer refusing to act: he had not the energy to. He had even forgotten how, perhaps.  
  
"Put your arms up," Legolas instructed, raising his chin to demonstrate as he gathered up the tunic. Estel raised his arms over his head obediently. Shaking his head, Legolas pulled Estel's arms through the tunic and pulled it down over his chest. He grabbed the trousers, then paused. "Estel, if I have to do this, I will, but you will not like suffering the consequences of it," he warned. Estel took the trousers and slowly pulled them on.  
  
"May I go back to sleep now?" he asked.  
  
"No," Legolas said firmly. "Estel, we need to talk. We can spar if you like, or go for a walk, or anything, but you need to get up. This will not help you, it will kill you." Estel's eyes gleamed in a way that told Legolas that was the point. Before he knew what he was doing, Legolas drew back his arm and slapped Estel.  
  
"Ouch!" he exclaimed.  
  
"I am sorry, but Estel! At least you can still feel pain. This is -not- the answer! Get up!"  
  
"No. . .I do not like you," he proclaimed. "You slapped me." His hands had not moved; Estel had hardly moved when Legolas slapped him and he did not move to touch his cheek.  
  
"Would you rather discuss this with your Ada? Lord Elrond awaits your report, Estel. Would you rather speak to me first, or go directly to him?"  
  
Estel quivered. With Legolas he would not need to speak, he knew, simply be active, maybe just get outside for a few hours. With Lord Elrond, Estel would be forced to go over the entire incident, every fact, from start to finish. He knew full well that he could not do so.  
  
Suddenly Estel snapped, and broke into a fit of tears. Legolas sat down beside him on the bed, and put an arm around his friend. Estel curled up on the bed, curling against Legolas, crying out weeks' worth of tears, sobbing out endless grief, sorrow, and regret. For a long time Estel just sat and cried. And Legolas rubbed his back, trying hard not to remember. . .  
  
*****  
  
TBC 


	2. Glorfindel

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any recognizable characters and/or places thereof.  
  
Author's Note: The Elflings are a bit nasty in this, sometimes. Don't worry. You'll see. On another topic, a lot of this chapter is based on actual events--things that have happened to me. So please don't say it's impossible, because most of it actually happened.  
  
Dragonsgirl22: Ah, but that would be a spoiler and I have a no-spoilers rule! You'll see, though.  
  
Leggylover03: He cried because of Things That Happened. Again, you'll see.  
  
Eph: I'm trying to post at least once a week on this one. I'm nearly out of school, so I'll have time soon.  
  
For Ariel, who will have to wait.  
  
*****Approximately one month past:  
  
"Legolas Greenleaf! I thought I would never see you again!"  
  
"Why would you want to?" Legolas asked, allowing his old friend and one-time teacher to embrace him. For a few moments it was a mass of golden braids, then Glorfindel drew back.  
  
"There was only one of you, thank the Valar," said the elder Elf thoughtfully. "The twins, now there is another story. Two of them, and they switched on me quite often enough! I have one now, though, who may be flawed, but I shall never say a word about his lack of studiousness."  
  
"Glorfindel, still tutoring the little ones? You always swore that the twins and I would drive you to quitting." They were walking now, ambling lightly along the corridor, eager to catch up.  
  
"Well, you did, but there was this one boy--I will leave his story to the twins to tell, if they wish. Ah, here we are."  
  
"Where are we, Glorfindel?" asked Legolas, but Glorfindel rested his hand on the door in front of them and motioned for silence.  
  
"What you are about to see is one of the sweetest, most tragic scenes I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, and I visit this room rarely enough, so keep that mouth of yours shut, Legolas Greenleaf!"  
  
"Yes, Schoolmaster," said Legolas with a bemused smile.  
  
"I mean it."  
  
"I know."  
  
"All right then." Glorfindel pushed open the door, and Legolas sidled in. The scene before him really did take his breath away. The room was big, large enough to constitute a small Hall. The walls and floor were lined with thick blue pads. There were windows along one wall, all of them thrown open to let in the chirping of birds and the bright sunlight; even an occasional squirrel or butterfly. No woodland creature would dare to venture, however, into this unorthodox classroom.  
  
If unorthodox could even describe it. At the head of the class stood Elladan and Elrohir, Elrohir lecturing while Elladan showed the students exactly what they were to do. The student body was composed of eight children, each somewhere around forty years. Each student held a staff by their side. At first this seemed relaxed, as though they might be leaning on their weapons for support, but on a less cursory glance Legolas realized that the staffs were held perfectly vertical, about three inches above the floor.  
  
"All right now, watch," said Elrohir. With a nod to his brother, the twins turned and gathered their own weapons. Elrohir continued to call out to the class as he and Elladan sparred--very slowly, to show the students the proper way to go about everything. "There," once Elladan had tapped him on the shoulder, "now it is your turn. Pair off and see what you can do."  
  
Just as the eight paired off as they were told. Legolas noted one odd pair; a girl, it seemed, the only one in the class. She was taller than most of the boys and kept her brown hair tied back in a long, thick braid. The boy she was paired with seemed uncomfortable with himself, lacking all the grace most Elves so naturally possessed. The boy was still getting his footing when the girl swung high, and likely would have smacked him on the head had his reflexes not kicked in quickly. The boy raised his staff, flinching slightly as the two met, driving him back the tiniest bit.  
  
"Keep your ground!" cried Elladan from behind the boy, causing him to jump, but he regained his composure and struck back at the girl. "It is not a sword, do not treat it like one." Elladan was being awfully harsh! He was only a young boy. The boy in question seemed to try harder, though, and he nearly tapped the girl once. She aimed for his stomach, but he blocked her. Seeing that Elladan had moved on, the girl shifted and drove her staff into the boy's groin. Legolas cringed in pain. The boy did not cry out, though for a brief second his face contorted to show extreme pain; he responded by jumping on her and wrenching her arms behind her back.  
  
"Estel! Muriel! Stop it!" Elladan pulled the two apart. There were tears in the boy's eyes, but he knocked them away quickly. Elladan held each child firmly by a handful of their tunics. The girl squirmed and spat, but the boy stayed still.  
  
Legolas thought to look at Glorfindel, beside him, and saw the Elf shaking his head. "What happened?" Legolas asked, not understanding.  
  
"Muriel beats up on Estel all the time. No one will do anything much. Because she is a female the male students are less than kind to her. Only Estel can she get away with hitting like that; anyone else and the boys would be on her like mad."  
  
"He does seem awkward. . ."  
  
Glorfindel looked sidelong at his friend. "All fifteen-year-olds are awkward." It felt strange, almost, to Legolas, that Glorfindel should defend a student so. Usually he let the young ones go about their own ways and develop on their own, being sure they made no mistakes but otherwise allowing them space. But then Legolas realized that Glorfindel had allowed space.  
  
"Fifteen?" Legolas had not yet realized that Estel was a mortal.  
  
Meanwhile, across the room, Elladan spoke in a hushed angry tone to Estel and Muriel as Elrohir sent the others on their way, collecting their staffs from them as they went. "Are you both all right?" Elladan began. After two positive replies, Elladan went on, furious, "Muriel, to begin with, that is one of the least chivalrous acts I have ever seen performed. Why did you do that?" Muriel only sneered. "And Estel, what have I told you about anger?"  
  
"'m sorry, Elladan," Estel muttered, looking at his shoes.  
  
"What have I told you?" Elladan repeated.  
  
"It's cowardly and dishonorable and I should control myself as though in the heat of battle."  
  
"Good." Elladan truly was pleased: a recitation would show nothing learned, but this showed that Estel thought these things over outside of class. "Now, both of you are at fault for this; Muriel for striking Estel in a most discourteous manner and Estel for giving in to anger and striking her back." Elladan left out that Muriel was a lady. She hardly was, anyway, and preferred to be treated just the same as the boys. "One hundred lines, both of you, by tomorrow. Muriel, you are to copy down the code of chivalry. Estel, 'I will control my temper'."  
  
"Yes, Elladan," the two chorused, then Elladan sent them on their ways, as well. His eyes filled with pride as he watched Estel, head held high. Glorfindel followed this boy, saying his name to catch his attention. Estel looked up and moved to speak, but thought better of it, and he and Glorfindel continued down the corridor. Silently Elladan turned and began tidying things up. Without a word Elrohir walked over to his brother and rubbed his shoulder gently. "It's all right, I'm fine," Elladan said, turning, and for the first time saw his Mirkwood friend. "Legolas!"  
  
"Elladan, Elrohir," Legolas replied, not in the mood for an exuberant hug at the moment. There was one thing he felt he needed to say, before it slipped his mind. "Do you ever let him see that look in your eyes?"  
  
"What look?"  
  
"That pride. He's only fifteen, for the sake of the Valar! Were you just a tad hard on him?"  
  
Elladan and Elrohir sighed and exchanged glances. "Estel is our brother," Elladan explained. "He is fifteen mortal years old. We all know that when we are Estel's teachers he has to learn, and if we try to coddle him in the least it will only hurt him."  
  
"That girl hit him for no reason," Legolas argued. "And he is young!"  
  
"Legolas. . .did Ada not tell you about Estel?" Elrohir asked finally.  
  
"No, he did not tell me."  
  
"Oh. Well, it would be best if he did. . .instead of us. What brings you to Imladris?"  
  
"I needed to get out of Mirkwood. It had been almost a decade since I last left, to visit your sister, and I was just itching to leave again. You two sprang to mind."  
  
"You know you love us," Elladan teased. He had always been the more outgoing twin. "You know it." And the twins hugged Legolas both at once, nearly strangling the poor Elf.  
  
*****  
  
Later on, as the sun was setting, the children who had been in the staff-training class unwound from their day with a game, which Elladan and Elrohir supervised from the sidelines. It seemed the children old enough to be on their own, but sometimes the twins couldn't help it--without them around, Estel would be preyed upon, and that was hard for them to take. Even with them there he was given the position of goalkeeper, and pelted with balls flying at him from all about. Estel just laughed, saying it hardly hurt.  
  
"There are a lot of them," Legolas commented. Elven children were usually few and far apart. The mere idea of seven born so close to each other. . .it was strange.  
  
"Yes, there really is no explanation. Seven children in under ten years! Ada was furious about the whole business--" Elrohir began.  
  
"As he always must be," Elladan cut in. Elrond was known for being very slow to anger on good days and quite quick to it on bad days. Most days were good, of course.  
  
"--so," said Elrohir with a nasty look at his brother, "he designed this program. It takes care of the children and trains them for later life. He was really afraid that they would not be able to add to society."  
  
"Glorfindel. . .?"  
  
"No. Glorfindel only ever taught us," Elrohir replied.  
  
"He told me he had a student right now."  
  
"Ah. Estel."  
  
"Ah." The clarified absolutely nothing, but that was just fine.  
  
On the playing field, the Elflings chased each other a great deal, hardly keeping track of what was going on. Estel smiled at the antics of which he could not be a part. A part of him missed Oswald, his childhood friend. His eyes strayed to Lysander, who was among those out on the field. The brothers looked so alike, identical eye color and hair color, fair of skin. It had been one of the most painful things Estel had ever experienced, growing up and watching Oswald remain a child. Lysander was Estel's friend, and kind, but only in private. In public, Lysander was too well thought of to be seen as Estel's friend.  
  
"You understand, don't you, Estel?" Lysander had asked. No, Estel had not understood. After a time he came to understand what was on, and saw the look of pain in Lysander's eye when Muriel hit him hard, but then, Lysander cared more about the opinions of others. Estel did not understand why, if the others followed him, he denied Estel. The others would listen to whatever Lysander said. If he said that Estel was all right and should not be beaten up all the time, the others would leave Estel alone.  
  
Somehow, in a group of only eight, there was a clique system as torturous as any other was. At the top of this system was Lysander, naturally. He was graceful and beautiful, and his fair looks set him apart. Lysander's studies were. . .he did not exactly excel. This was generally ignored. The second popular child was Wilwarindi. Wilwarindi was an odd one; while he had grace it was not in battle. His mind, however, that was what kept him popular. He was intelligent, and had the most amazing thoughts and insights. He never did anyone else's work for them, but he would help them find the proper answers.  
  
Then there were the others: Minyadur, Luinil, Karnil, Alkarinque, Elemmiire, and Naarie. Minyadur was the oldest of the group, and though he was arrogant and dense everyone respected him, because he was eldest. Luinil and Karnil were twins. Their personalities were huge: Luinil was very quiet, yet he had this manner of scoffing at everything everyone did. Karnil was more accepting; he was also incredibly loud, funny, and strong. Alkarinque was even worse; he was always finding some secret about another person and "accidentally" telling the others. Elemmiire agreed with whatever Alkarinque said, or did. These two were scrabbling for a place among the more popular students. Naarie, last of all, was proficient in his studies, decent with weapons, and short. He was sweet, always kind to everyone and very understanding. No one could help but love Naarie.  
  
Yet they were all Elves. They all banded together when the time came, they all had grace, they all. . .were Elves, in short. And for this reason Estel would never be a part of them. Muriel was a girl and a nasty person. She was not particularly disliked, however, because she was Elven. As far as the social ladder went, this was the order of the students: Lysander, Wilwarindi, Minyadur, Naarie, Luinil and Karnil, Alkarinque and Elemmiire, Muriel, Estel. And it seemed to Estel highly unlikely that this would ever change.  
  
The edan was drawn out of his reveries as a ball smacked him right in the face. It stung, for a moment, then all feeling was gone. Estel began to laugh, because in a lot of ways in was funny. Had someone actually aimed for his face? Had it been an accident? He didn't care. It didn't hurt. It was funny.  
  
It had been Luinil who had kicked the ball into Estel's face, and while he had not meant it, he thought it awful funny himself. However, the game began to disperse then, as it was time for supper anyway and they were all hungry enough to eat each other. With a small amount of chatter the seven headed in, leaving Estel, who was more comfortable on his own, anyway.  
  
He could have followed them, like Alkarinque. He could have wheedled and begged for a spot among their ranks. Some days, like that particular day, Estel wanted to do this. He never did. He kept his head high, as though this would help, denied his tears, and watched the stars come out until the other children were indoors and would not notice him. He liked not being noticed. It made him feel powerful, in a way.  
  
"Estel?" it was Elrohir. He tilted his head slightly. "Come in."  
  
Estel looked around and shrugged, then ran to join his brothers.  
  
"Are you all right?" Elladan asked at once.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Yes. Why would I not be?"  
  
Elladan chuckled. If Estel wanted to leave classroom events in the classroom, he would not complain. "This is Legolas Greenleaf, a friend of Elrohir and I. He's from Mirkwood."  
  
"Mae govannen," Estel said with a polite bow.  
  
"Well met," Legolas returned.  
  
"He is going to come with us next week," Elladan added.  
  
"All right."  
  
"You like him then?" the elder twin continued as if Legolas and Elrohir were not there. Elrohir was used to this; Elladan used this tactic to make others feel comfortable. If someone felt watched, he was often wary.  
  
"I think he seems all right," Estel replied. "I've only just met him, but he had blonde hair."  
  
Elladan laughed. "And?"  
  
"And the only other blonde-haired people I know are Glorfindel, Oswald, and Lysander."  
  
"All right."  
  
Legolas turned to Elrohir and asked, "What happens next week?" Elrohir grinned, wondering if Legolas would be there or not. Elladan might have asked first. . . 


	3. Elrohir

Ergh. . .I just graduated yesterday, so any major angst in this chapter is because I'm a bit unsure of my feelings about that, so while I try to clarify. . .  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof.  
  
Author's note: I know the Elflings are a bit nasty in this, and it's not very Elf-like, but they are only practically teens. Again, a large amount of the content in this chapter has been based on actual events.  
  
Lady Eowyn: Yeah, that's where I get a lot of Elfling names. Oswald, for example, then there was that Anterrabae a while ago which is from 'I Never Promised You a Rose Garden'. . .  
  
Leggylover03: Pretty much, yes. It actually only stings a little to get kicked in the face with a ball. The crotch is much more painful--I speak from experience!  
  
Grumpy: Hi! My friend at school is called Gimli (it's a nickname) and I call him Grumpy when he's being. . .well. . .grumpy! Anyway. Thanks!  
  
NaughtyNat: Thanks, you shall see, and yes. The entire story is a flashback; the first chapter is the present.  
  
Trustingfriendship: It's awful, but then, do you know what an elementary and junior high school corridor is like? At my junior high school there was a program for advanced studies called IHP, and because the majority of the IHP was white (magnet doesn't accept many white kids, they're a majority), a white student could not walk into a classroom without being sworn at for being an "IHP b****". So yes, it is unfair, but it happens. It sounds as though we have had similar experiences.  
  
StriderGrrl: Thanks.  
  
*****  
  
Legolas rode with Elrohir at the back of the small procession. Elladan led the group, which consisted of the nine Elflings and Estel. They had only just left Imladris, and so the seriousness of their task had yet to wear off, and for a while to go there would be no teasing, joking, or chattering among the students. Elrohir and Legolas, who had both many years of experience, kept quiet and maintained some solemnity, but were not mute, for they enjoyed their time together no matter the circumstances.  
  
"You do not mind terribly, do you, that Elladan did not ask before volunteering you for this?" Elrohir asked.  
  
"No, not at all," Legolas replied. In truth he had been a bit annoyed at first, but then he learned what he had been volunteered for, and knew he would have chosen to go, anyway, and that Elladan knew it. For a brief moment he was annoyed with Elladan for knowing him so well, but this thought was petty and transient. "I did come to Imladris because I needed a change of scenery, and so what if only a week has passed and I am no longer in Imladris? At least the scenery is changing!" The elves laughed quietly. "But no one has given me the details, Elrohir, would you?"  
  
"What do you wish to know?" Elrohir asked, realizing that while this was a task arranged by the twins themselves, and that the information had been given to the Elfling group as thoroughly as possible, no one had thought to tell Legolas exactly what was going on.  
  
"Where are we going, for one. I know only that there is some strife. . .somewhere. . .and we are hoping to end it."  
  
"We are going to the land that was once Eregion," Elrohir stated calmly, noting the sharp intake of breath from his companion.  
  
"Eregion! The wreckage of those fires has been long plundered and, by your people and mine, cleared as best as could be done. What business have we in Eregion? Let us leave the land in the deadly peace it has crafted for itself in aiding the Dark Lord in the creation of his Rings of corrupt and evil! Those rings represent and bring all that is evil, why do we aid the land that corrupts our own?"  
  
"I suggest that you calm yourself," Elrohir said coolly. "I consider not my father to be evil. I consider not my mother's mother to be evil. Recall you not that they bear Vilya and Nenya? Or do you mean this great insult to my family?"  
  
"No, Elrohir, no insult was meant, I only spoke without thought," Legolas replied. "Please, continue."  
  
"All right. There is a colony of Elves in Eregion--though it is no longer Eregion, let us call it this for simplicity's sake--and a colony of Men. They are but three miles apart and totally incapable of peaceful coexistence."  
  
"You mean. . .?"  
  
"That's right. Sabotage, murder; nothing is below them."  
  
"But, I do not understand, how did you come by this knowledge? The Elves of Mirkwood know nothing of such activity."  
  
"And the Elves of Mirkwood have not a healer renowned as the greatest in all Middle-earth," Elrohir replied. "Ada does not like getting involved in these affairs, but with the injured coming in such great numbers, he could not look the other way, and believe that nine men were injured on a hunting trip, with such poisons. It was really the boy that turned his decision, though."  
  
"What do you mean?" Legolas asked. "What boy?"  
  
"About six weeks ago, Estel was helping out in the Hall of Healing. It had been a relatively quiet week, when there was a great commotion, and a woman entered with a child, a boy. He had burns all over the left side of his body. The woman was hysterical. Ada just treated the wounds, trying to ignore the woman, not even seeing the boy as anything but an injury. After about fifteen minutes the boy was dead; on the long journey his wounds had become infected and had bled terribly. Nothing could have saved him. Later on, as Ada was cleaning up, he noticed the boy's face: grey-blue eyes set in tan skin, ruddy, sort of, and thin black hair. He looked alive, Ada says, not in pain but so happy. He looked like Estel. When Ada asked the woman what happened, she said the boy had been playing in an abandoned house that caught fire."  
  
"Because the boy reminded him of Estel?" Legolas asked, referring to Elrond's motivations, looking at the young mortal ahead of them.  
  
"Yes, and because the burns were too intense to have been cause by a house catching fire, and because of the way they reacted to certain additions. . .it had been some sort of explosion, we know that, caused by fusion of certain. . .I do not honestly understand it."  
  
"One thing yet confuses me; how came these people to find your secret valley?"  
  
"By my father's scouts they came, for many were the bodies abandoned by roadside of they that sought healing and found it not. This is how news of the fighting came first to him; he knew of such promiscuous killing and sought reason behind it."  
  
"Ah." For many hours the procession continued in silence, with the occasional speech between Elrohir and Legolas. When the sobriety had worn from the group, they began to chatter, first quietly, hushed, as though afraid they would be in trouble for their speech, then, as their confidence grew, louder. Estel spoke, quite rarely, when some fact was being discussed and it was incorrect. After being hushed by the group, he would turn to Elladan, who would either nod or shake his head slightly, meaning that Estel's facts were either correct or not. Usually Estel was right.  
  
"Telperion had leaves of silver beneath and dark green above," Estel said at one point, as someone made a statement to the contrary.  
  
"Of course, Estel, you just know everything!" Alkarinque said. "Or at least you ought to, with the amount of hours you spend taking remedial courses with Glorfindel." This name was said with a sneer.  
  
"They aren't remedial classes, and Glorfindel never did anything to you!" Estel replied, his face turning quickly a rather bright shade of pink.  
  
"If it is untrue, why do you blush?" asked Alkarinque.  
  
"Because it is insulting."  
  
"Because it is true!"  
  
"It must be, if it embarrasses you," Elemiire said. Estel did not reply, but fixed his eyes dead ahead. He knew he was right, and that was as much as mattered at the moment.  
  
At the end of a very long day of riding, as the light from the sun was disappearing below the trees, Elladan called a halt. "Luinil and Karnil, you two are to find wood for a fire," he said, and at once the two scurried off to fetch what ever they could that would burn. "Muriel, Wilwarindi, and Elemiire, scout, -quickly-. See that we are not bothering any large animals--any bears, coyotes, wolves--and be back as soon as possible. Do not stray too far from camp. Minyadur and Naarie, you are in charge of the housekeeping aspects, do you remember what that means? Good. Lysander, Estel, Alkarinque, see to the horses."  
  
Within moments the place was buzzing with activity. "Here, let's divide this up evenly," said Lysander to the others, who nodded. "I will see to the horses down that end, Alkarinque these here, and Estel there. That makes four each for us, and Estel will take five, all right?" It showed very much in his eyes that he would have taken five himself, but around Alkarinque his reputation was at stake.  
  
"Yes," chorused the others, and set about to their work. Still quite uncertain of his skill, Estel went slowly. Luckily the horses had been tethered already. Estel slowly untacked the first, lying the pack it carried by a tree and the saddle over a nearby log. Then he checked and cleaned the horses' hooves and brushed off his coat. Four times more he did this, then went to draw water from a stream close by. This was the worst part of looking after the horses. Mostly it was enjoyable; being around them, cleaning them, and such. Lugging five buckets of water about was not an enjoyable task.  
  
The sun had set by the time Estel made his way back to camp, going slowly so as not to slosh the water about and lose any. He did not fancy another trip to the river and back; his muscles ached already. He set the water before the horses, and was just going to join the others around the fire when he noticed that Alkarinque had not gotten any water for his horses. "Alkarinque," Estel said, standing outside of the circle around the warm fire, well aware of the cold the others could not feel. A silence fell, and everyone turned to Estel, waiting. "Alkarinque, you--er--you forgot to fetch water from the stream. Er, for the horses."  
  
"That could not be, I went down three times," Alkarinque replied. "Elemiire saw me."  
  
"But--" Estel did not bother. He knew that Alkarinque had done no such thing, and that this was only a cruel joke. Nevertheless, he nodded. "It must have been my mistake, I will go and fix that right now."  
  
"You do that," Alkarinque said with a nod. Estel turned from the fire and gathered two of the buckets Alkarinque should have filled, heading again for the river. He could hear them laughing at him, and he wanted to cry, but would not, blinking and clenching his teeth to keep back the tears. He would not let them win.  
  
There was a second fire at camp, around which three grown Elves sat. "They seem to be enjoying themselves," Elrohir commented.  
  
"Yes," Legolas agreed at a burst of laughter from the young group.  
  
Elladan, the only one seated in a way that he could see them, said, "'Ro, tell me we were not like that as children."  
  
"What, happy?" Elrohir asked. "We were often happy, and loud, as well."  
  
"And cruel?" Elladan asked.  
  
"Wha--oh, I should have known!" Elrohir exclaimed. "What have they done to him?"  
  
"Nothing terrible, he is letting them," Elladan said, and Elrohir relaxed.  
  
"I do not understand you two," Legolas said. "You call him your brother, yet you allow the Elven children to treat him this way!" A part of him was angry at this injustice, for though he hardly knew Estel and trusted Men little, he realized that they had feelings as well and should not be thusly abused.  
  
"If we intervene, they will simply find him alone and beat him up," Elrohir replied in a logical tone. "They will say he can do nothing for himself, and stereotype against the race of Men."  
  
"Lord Elrond--"  
  
"Does not know and is not to be told," Elladan cut in sharply. "Estel alone holds the right to make that decision; you, I, and Elrohir do not. He wants to sort this out, of live it through, on his own, and he will be allowed to do so. There is no alternative, Legolas. We give him the support that will neither repress him nor teach him to rely on us. We have no other choice."  
  
"If he told you," Legolas asked carefully, "what would you do?"  
  
"We would tell them, as a whole, how wrong it is to hurt someone like that."  
  
"Elrohir's ideas and mine differ," Elladan added. "I had an exercise in mind. . .it basically goes that I would yell at someone for no decent reason and see how he felt, it would probably have to be Lysander or Naarie, and then the class would realize what they have done. And if I saw them outside of class, beating up Estel, I think you know what I would do."  
  
Legolas nodded. "I know that you would hurt them very badly, Elladan. But why Naarie? He is the nicest boy in the lot!"  
  
"So everyone cares about him."  
  
"You favor Estel unfairly," Legolas observed.  
  
"I would do the same for Arwen or Elrohir," Elladan replied. "Estel is family."  
  
Estel carried the water back to camp. On a hunch, he checked the horses once more, and found that one was missing a shoe. How could that be? He had been very thorough and careful the first time through, and now. . .oh. Of course. Now either he would not report it, in doing so hurt the horse and be in even more trouble when the missing shoe was discovered the next day, or tell Elladan and be sent back to Imladris with the horse. With a heavy heart he trudged past the laugher and warmth of the fire, feeling very lonely and cold, over to Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas.  
  
"Here comes your chance," Legolas said, as Estel approached.  
  
"What is it, Estel?" Elladan asked.  
  
"One of the horses is missing a shoes," Estel said in a dull voice. Elladan nodded.  
  
"Right." Then he called out, "Alkarinque, Minyadur!" The two Elves in question answered the summons swiftly, casting Estel dirty looks. "One of the horses has lost a shoe, you two will escort it back to Imladris in the morning." With replies of compliance, the three youths headed back to the first fire. Elladan turned to the others. "I would like to see Elemiire without Alkarinque around," he said. "And Minyadur punches the hardest." 


	4. Elladan

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any recognizable characters and/or places thereof.  
  
Grumpy: Wow. . .thank you. . .  
  
Lady Laughing Owl: Yeah, I'm pretty mean to him, aren't I? And again, it's fine. All right, in truth I was pretty annoyed, but hey, it's not the path, it's what you do at the end of it. Or something like that. Um, could you please clarify what I am trying to say here?  
  
Maranwe: Well, it wasn't exactly written yet. But thanks. And, in spite of my no spoilers rule, I will say that "poor Aragorn" is quite accurate for this story!  
  
Leggylover03: Woah, breathe! I'm only human here!  
  
*****  
  
The absence of Minyadur had very little affect on the group, but the absence of Alkarinque brought a rather more noticeable change. There was an air of suspense about them, every one wondering what would happen, expecting something huge. As they followed Elladan's orders to pack up camp and move out, each boy looked to the next, as if mentally prodding him into motion.  
  
"Right," Elladan began, not at all bothered by the apprehensive air. "As we are getting farther and farther from Imladris, the danger we are in is increasing. Every one will be assigned a partner, you will stay with the person you are assigned to. Look out for your partner. There is to be no swapping of partners!" The meaning of this last part was clear as day: often, they were partnered up, and always people passed around the same two children, until at last Estel and Muriel were stuck together yet again. Elladan meant not to allow that, this time. "Wilwarindi and Muriel are partners; Naarie and Elemiire; Luinil and Karnil; Lysander and Estel. Those are your partners, now let's get moving!"  
  
The group jostled about for a while, each child trying to catch up to or fall back to their partner. Lysander and Estel rode first, directly behind Elladan, and followed by Luinil and Karnil, who snickered, pleased to be paired together and planning mischief. Wilwarindi and Muriel came next, quite silent. Lastly of the students was Naarie and Elemiire, a pair Elladan wondered about in particular. Elrohir and Legolas rode at the end of the line, keeping certain no one got left behind.  
  
"Lysander. . ." Estel ventured. Many hours had passed; the sun was high in the sky and birds sang merrily. "When every one is in a group, together, why do you never stick up for me? Why do you let them do what they do? We were friends, once."  
  
"Estel, I thought you understood," Lysander replied, giving him an anguished look.  
  
"Well, I clearly do not."  
  
Lysander took a deep breath. This was not something he truly wanted to admit: neither to himself, nor to Estel. "When every one else is watching, I cannot be known as a friend to you because they would shun me then as they do you now."  
  
"Really?" asked Estel sarcastically. "You are the most popular boy of this lot. If you told them to hold back, do you truly think they would not hold back?"  
  
Lysander shook his head. "It has gone on too long, Estel, too long for that. Now teasing you is practically a pastime for them. What would you have me do?"  
  
"Lysander," Estel replied calmly, "you know full well that it is more than teasing. I have seen you standing by, watching, though you try not to, hiding in the shadows and doing nothing as I suffer their angers. You lurk in the shadows unseen and watch their crimes committed, and even after you do not report it, nor do you help me when I cannot manage to so much as stand. You have seen me crawl like a beast away from them. You have seen my defiance and my breaking. All of this you have seen, and done nothing to stop."  
  
"Do you think it easy to bear these memories?" Lysander hissed.  
  
"You bear the memories as I bear the pain and scars, Lysander," Estel replied through clenched teeth, his anger barely contained. How could Lysander even begin to believe that he had suffered simply because he had seen?  
  
"I do not mean to say that I have suffered more than you. What I mean to say is that I only watched because--well, because I knew. I had to see it for myself, so I would not be fooled, and believe their lies. You see, Estel, after that one time I. . ." he lowered his voice. "Remember that time, seven years ago, when I. . ."  
  
"When you beat me up?" asked Estel of course he remembered: Lysander had been huge, at least, it seemed so, to eight-year-old Estel.  
  
Lysander seemed ashamed of it. "Yes. Clearly you remember. After that I. . .the reason I did that to you, Estel, was that I had defended you the day before, and they had laughed at me and called me an edan-lover. If I had not hurt you, I would have been ostracized. I knew it was wrong but-- but I had to do it."  
  
"So you let them corner me, allowed Luinil and Karnil to hold my arms, and punched me until I could no longer hold myself up?" asked Estel, remembering all too clearly.  
  
"I. . ."  
  
"Then you stopped, right, you stopped when they had to literally hold me to keep me from falling down, and you told them to drop me--and then, when I thought it was over, it was enough that I was bleeding, retching, and covered in mud, you kicked me, hard, and set an example. . ."  
  
"I could not stop them!" Lysander quickly interrupted.  
  
"Nor could I," replied Estel darkly.  
  
"How did you stand it?" Lysander asked, no longer defensive but in awe.  
  
"When ever I was not around the others, I learned to forget about them. In lessons with Glorfindel, I learned history and philosophy such as I have always enjoyed. To add to that, I was a healthy boy with two brothers and a father, all of whom loved me very much, as I loved them. There was nothing wrong with my life." Estel had to blink back tears as he realized the terrible truth: he had a horribly pathetic existence. Lysander was looking at him with curious, pitying eyes. "I never realized before quite how terrible things really were for me."  
  
"That's some optimism," Lysander replied, not sure what else to say. He was yet unready to admit the truth, again: that he is sorry.  
  
Meanwhile, Karnil and Luinil were getting rather bored. The sun was near to setting and soon they would be stopping. The two were sore in their saddles, muscles stiffening and tiring. "I spy with my eye, something that is. . ." Karnil looked about. "This is a dumb game," he said.  
  
"It was your idea," Luinil replied.  
  
"Well, it was a dumb idea," Karnil shot back. They were silent, steaming, for a few moments. Then Karnil remembered something, and he kicked Luinil to get his attention. "I dare you to put this down Estel's shirt," Karnil whispered, pulling a dead worm from his pocket and handing it to Luinil.  
  
Luinil laughed. "All right," he said, taking the worm and nudging his horse forward the smallest bit. This did not go unnoticed by the others, nor was it meant to. Naarie looked on, disapproving, as Elemiire watched eagerly. Muriel, also, had a malicious gleam in her eyes. Legolas also observed, looking torn: should he intervene? It seemed wrong to let such a thing happen. Luckily he was saved from making this decision by Lysander, who snapped around and grabbed Luinil's wrist.  
  
"Let him be," Lysander commanded angrily. He could not believe he had done this, but felt dreadful with the knowledge of what he had done to Estel, and wanted to make up for it. This was all he could do, for now, but he would do more later, or so resolved Lysander, at least. Luinil backed down, looking angry.  
  
The rest of the ride passed in hostility. No one spoke, and even the adult Elves could not ignore the thick air. It was a great relief to every one when Elladan called a halt. He dismounted, tied up his mount, and waited for the others to imitate. The conversations he overheard had rendered his throat dry and rather contracted, and so with great effort Elladan doled out duties for each of the students to perform, then sat, leaning against a thick tree, and rubbed his hands over his face.  
  
"What is it, Elladan?" Elrohir asked. "Surely this is not all about the worm?"  
  
"No," Elladan replied. "It is nothing. I was only thinking. . .do you suppose we should head back, Elrohir? Are they ready for this?"  
  
"They do fool around quite a bit, but they know how to be serious, Elladan. You and I both know this. We have seen it. They are ready," Elrohir assured him.  
  
"And if they are not?"  
  
"Then they had better learn quick," was all he could think to say. Elladan smiled a crooked smile, his lip peeling back to reveal the teeth beneath it; a feral sort of smile. And then Elladan laughed, a full, out- and-out laugh. "It was not even terribly funny, Elladan!" Elrohir chided.  
  
"Of course not," Elladan replied, making his face as innocent as possibly. After a moment his eyes darkened, and he drew Elrohir close, whispering in his brother's ear, "I hate this, Elrohir. You know that, do you not? I hate not being able to do anything for him."  
  
"He can take care of himself, Elladan," Elrohir replied. He cared for Estel, of course, but knew and accepted the harder truth: the boy would grow, as he had already done very much, and he would be a king. He would have to hold his own, he would have to stand alone. It had been Elrohir who, for many years, held back Elladan, physically restraining him when necessary, that he would not interfere. Every time, Elrohir had hoped Estel would hold his own, and in some ways he had: he had run, he spat, he tried to fight back. A sicker part of Elrohir was even proud of Estel for not crying out, not giving them even that satisfaction. He wondered often, what would Estel do, given the chance to have his revenge? Would he take it, and if so, how far?  
  
That night, when Elladan, Elrohir, Muriel, Wilwarindi, Naarie, and Elemiire were asleep, and the others believed themselves the only ones awake, Luinil, who was on watch at the time, knelt over Karnil and poked him. "What is it?" replied Karnil, keeping his voice low.  
  
"Karnil. I want revenge."  
  
"On who, Lysander?"  
  
"And Estel; we owe him a trick for the worm."  
  
"What do you propose we do about it, then?"  
  
Luinil had mulled this over, and come to a conclusion. "Obvious the Idiot Twins are not going to let us get away with anything, not if they know about it, so we will need to be careful--"  
  
"Luinil!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Well, they--Elladan and Elrohir--are not only our instructors, they are the sons of Lord Elrond."  
  
"So what?"  
  
"So. . .Luinil, they are lords themselves, we should not--you should not disrespect them like that!"  
  
"Karnil, that is completely beside the point, now listen. . ."  
  
Not far off, Legolas frowned. He did not like hearing the twins spoken about in such a manner, and knew that Luinil was being disrespectful and arrogant simply because he could, or perhaps out of insecurity. Nevertheless, it was rude. He had not been such a malicious youth--had he? How did that boy--Estel, Legolas reminded himself, Estel--get by in such company? Always Legolas had thought lowly of edain, believing them to be weak and stupid, but meeting Estel made him wonder. No, he decided, Estel cannot help what he is any more than he can change it--he is a mortal, therefore he is stupid and weak. And Legolas took a deep breath, and hardened his heart.  
  
Estel lay sprawled on top of his bedroll, slightly chilled by the night air, gazing at the stars. They were beautiful, so many of them, so bright and clear. A smile spread across his face. Watching them made him feel small and insignificant, and this certainly put things in perspective for him. "When ever I fail," he whispered to the wind, so quietly none could discern his words but the heavens above, "it matters, because those who care that I have failed matter to me. This is why I must succeed. Even if the other Elflings happen to hate me, at least it is not all of them-- Lysander is yet a friend, and Oswald. Oswald is sweet. . .I miss being on the same level as him, really, but what can be done about it?  
  
"Stars. Right. I am focusing on the stars. They do make me feel quite good--they make me realize how little it all matters, and that is really a reassuring thought. When I used to be. . .well, when they were hitting me. . .I always thought of the stars, repeating constellations over in my head. I knew that if I could just keep the stars in sight, I would know that none of it truly mattered. Is this pathetic? I never supposed so, but perhaps from an outsider's perspective it is. So what? I am Estel, and no other.  
  
"Yeah." Estel sighed and closed his eyes, letting the wind take him flying among the stars he so loved.  
  
*****  
  
TBC  
  
Right, please review (but please don't flame)! I promise a real big event next chapter! 


	5. Luinil

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof.  
  
Alexis: Some people are just plain mean. Sometimes they treat others badly out of simple insecurity.  
  
Leggylover03: Um. Right. Interesting. Hah, I'm just kidding. I can't tell you whether that is close to or far from the truth of the story, but you'll see.  
  
*****  
  
And nothing had changed. Lysander, after his momentary loyalty to Estel, was once again neutral. For three more days the Elflings continued to torture the boy in the most underhanded of manners, and for three days Estel continued to allow this, never letting Elladan and Elrohir know--as though they did not know already! The group became bored, and so Elrohir took to leading them, and he would call out assignments to them--snag a bit of this species of plant, yell out the name of the next bird you see, and so on. At dusk the twins would switch, and Elladan would lead the group, often well into the night. When they stopped, it was Elladan's hope, they would be too tired to be nasty. He was wrong, of course.  
  
At a quarter past ten on the fifth day of the journey, Luinil sat watch on a log near the dying campfire. He was tired and eager for his watch to end. Wind stirred the leaves on the trees, and an owl in a nearby tree hooted, then silence reigned again. Though Luinil would never admit it, he was frightened. When a twig snapped, he jumped. "W-who's there?" he called out. There was no reply. The owl hooted once more, and flew into the night. That was all the warning they had.  
  
In moments the camp was full of Men. They were not so tall as a fully- grown Elf, but certainly taller than the Elflings, armed with swords and seeming vicious. Luinil cried out and was on his feet at once, grabbing his bow from where it leaned against the log. Legolas, who had woken from a restless sleep at the sound of the twig snapping, scurried into a tree and called out, "Awake, awake, Elves of Imladris! Awake and fight!" as soon as he saw them stirring he nocked an arrow to his bow, drew it back and let it fly forward. It found its mark as Legolas fired a second time.  
  
It was chaos. In Elvish Elladan cried, "To the trees! Take your bows and retreat to the treetops, fire from safety!" The Elflings were quick to obey, snatching their bows and quivers and rushing to the higher branches, grappling for handholds. Elladan and Elrohir stayed behind, on the ground, to be sure the young ones get up all right. Naarie slipped, but Elrohir caught him and gave him a shove back up into the trees. Estel faltered, uncertain, unwilling to seek safety while his brothers remained in danger. "Estel, do as I say!" Elladan shouted. Estel gasped, surprised, then nodded and in moments was in the lower branches of the same tree Legolas had chosen.  
  
With the others safe and the arrows flying at the Men, Elladan and Elrohir turned to the trees. They had gotten their charges to safety and sought it themselves. "There," Elrohir said, motioning to the nearest tree even as he rushed to it, Elladan following. They skidded to a halt at the base of the trunk.  
  
"You first," Elladan panted, and though he wished to Elrohir did not disobey. Elladan stood at the base, shooting any Man who came near, or tried to, as Elrohir climbed. Once he had reached a low but safe perch, only minutes after he had started his ascent, Elrohir called down, "Elladan, now you!" Elladan turned and began to climb as Elrohir kept him safe. The Men were angry now, most of them hacking away at the trees, damaging their swords more than anything else, but a few remained focused on the twins. Elrohir shot to injure, not to kill, but when one Man was shot in the arm and kept coming, Elrohir had no choice.  
  
Estel was across the clearing from the twins, and could not help but watch them. Legolas had pulled Estel up to his branch, and was watching him as best he could while firing arrows as quickly as possible. In this manner Estel saw Elrohir turn slightly as Wilwarindi cried out when a sword clipped his hand. Estel saw the Man sneak up on his brothers, and he saw his arrow fly astray. He saw the Man sweep up a rock and raise it. Frozen, Estel could only watch as the Man brought the rock down on the back of Elladan's head, and Elladan fell.  
  
"Elladan!" Elrohir cried, leaping to the ground to protect his fallen brother. Estel struggled, trying to go to them, but Legolas restrained him.  
  
"No, I have to help him, let me go!" Estel protested.  
  
"They would not want you to risk your life like this," Legolas replied, tightening his grip on Estel, and finally the boy stopped struggling. In the meantime, Elrohir had subdued the Man who hit Elladan with one swift punch, and was fighting off the rest of them, who had regrouped against the twins. The Elflings, from the treetops, fired as best they could, hitting their marks often, but not often enough.  
  
"NO!" Estel cried, and began struggling anew as the Men retreated, taking Elladan and Elrohir, now both unconscious, with them.  
  
"Estel, you mustn't do anything rash!" Legolas told him firmly, then leapt from the tree to the ground. "Swords!" he called out. "From your treetop perches and take your swords!" The Elflings obeyed him, too shocked to do much thinking themselves, descending as quickly as possible and taking their swords from their sheaths. As they did so Estel noticed Muriel, a look of thinly disguised terror on her face. Legolas led them out, Estel at his heels, and they pursued the Men.  
  
This move had been anticipated, and before they were more than ten paces from their campsite, the Elves were ambushed. The Men came at them from all sides, swords at ready, and the air rang with the harsh sounds of metal meeting metal. Sparks flew as swords met. Estel fought with a fervor he had never before experienced, almost bloodlust, thinking only of his brothers. As he swung his sword down a Man met it, and Estel was shaken. His head snapped back, and his hair fell aside. "A mortal!" gasped the Man, and before he could recover Estel swung again--and cut off the Man's head.  
  
Seeing that they were outnumbered, the Men fled, retreating into the trees. "Reconvene back at camp!" Legolas called out, and there were sounds of movement as the boys made their way back. Legolas added wood to the fire, and they could see at once that everything had been walked on and kicked about. The horses had spooked and fled, leaving broken tethers and yet more trampled ground. Most of the Elflings were shell-shocked and numb, wandering about aimlessly until Legolas told them to have a seat near the fire. Estel was not at all numb. He wanted to go after his brothers, but knew there were more important things to see to first. "Lysander, Naarie, Luinil, Karnil, Wilwarindi, Elemmiire," he muttered, locating each of the boys as he said their names. "Legolas," he said, approaching the eldest remaining Elf. "I am going to find Muriel; she was with us earlier and I must see if she fell."  
  
Legolas nodded. "Don't go far, and be back as soon as possible."  
  
Estel hurried into the trees, then paused. Here was the battle site, marked by the bodies of Men who would never be buried. The blood that stained the ground shone silver in the moonlight. And Estel heard something. . .he paused, then went to investigate. Muriel knelt in the dirt, retching. She, too, had been unprepared for true bloodshed. Estel knelt down beside and rubbed her back as she did, holding back her hair with his other hand. "It'll be all right, Muriel," he whispered to her. She nodded, then ducked again and was sick. Patiently Estel stayed beside her, until she stopped and looked to him. "Are you all right now?" he asked as gently as he could.  
  
"I think so," she replied, nodding.  
  
"Come on then." Estel stood, then hauled Muriel to her feet. "Here." Why he had water with him he would never know, but he offered her a drink and she took it, rinsing out her mouth. "We need to get back." Again she nodded, and he led her back to the fire.  
  
"Why are you being so nice to me?" she asked him. "After everything I did to you, I thought you would hate me."  
  
"You don't need people to hate you," Estel replied. "And it is only chivalry to help a fallen warrior."  
  
"When we get back to the others, are you going to tell them so they can laugh at me?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Why? I would do the same to you. I would not have sat beside you, Estel."  
  
"I know."  
  
They could talk no more, for they had returned to camp. The others had cleaned things up a bit and were milling about. The shock had worn off, and many cried now, or held each other, or looked around as though just waking from a dream. Legolas tried in vain to get their attention. No one was listening to him. "Hey!" Estel cried, standing on a treestump to be more easily noticed. "Every one quiet and listen up!" To his surprise, they did. Estel stepped down and motioned for Legolas to speak.  
  
"All right. I know what just happened here was frightening for all of you. You should get some rest now. Estel and I will stand watch; the rest of you, get back to sleep. We will take further action in the morning."  
  
Within minutes his orders were carried out. Estel saw that every one was all right, and had a place to sleep, then went once round the camp to be sure they were safe. He returned to the fire, wherebeside Legolas sat, and said, "You could take some rest, as well. I will be all right to watch alone."  
  
"No," Legolas replied, shaking his head. "That is not a risk I would take." Estel nodded and sat beside the Elf.  
  
"Tomorrow. . .what will we do?" asked Estel. "I mean, about my brothers."  
  
"Well, here is what I think we ought to do: follow after the Men, but without malice. We reach their city and negotiate this feuding as best we can. In essence, we follow the twins' original plan through to completion," Legolas replied.  
  
"Then that is what we will do; you are our leader now."  
  
Legolas thought on this, then replied, "I suppose so." In the trees, a hare jumped on a twig, on it snapped. Estel's head shot up and his hands went to his bow, but Legolas stayed him with one hand on his wrist. "I will see what it is, you stay here," Legolas said, and was gone. Estel stared into the fire. Everything bad rushed upon him before he could stop it, and suddenly it all felt like too much. With his brothers gone, Estel felt completely alone in the world. He moved away from the fire and perched on a rock nearby, wrapping his arms around his knees.  
  
Legolas returned a few minutes later, saying, "It was only a hare, nothing to--Estel?" He swept his gaze once over the site, and quickly found the boy. With caution Legolas approached him and carefully laid one hand on Estel's shoulder. "Estel--?"  
  
"Don't touch me!" Estel scrabbled off the rock and back against a tree, watching warily.  
  
"I do not wish to harm you," Legolas said. What was going on? Estel knew him, said he trusted Legolas. Why did he retreat? Again Legolas carefully approached the boy, and this time Estel did not shy away, but stood his ground. "Estel? What's wrong?" Legolas asked carefully.  
  
For a moment there was no sound, then Estel made as if to run again, stopped himself, then sobbed and said, "I miss my brothers, and I fear for their safety!"  
  
"Oh, Estel. Do not worry for them; Elladan and Elrohir are strong spirits. They will be all right."  
  
Estel sniffed and nodded, rubbing at his tears with the backs of his wrists.  
  
"Until we are with them again, I'll look after you."  
  
"How could you even think of me at a time like this?" Estel asked, angry. "My brothers--" Before he could finish what he had started to say, Estel began to cry harder, shaking, trying to speak but unable. Legolas was unsure of what to do. He hesitated, then hugged the mortal. When Estel had stopped crying he drew away, and said, "Thank you. Please don't tell the others, they--" he clapped his hand over his mouth, as though he had said something best kept quiet.  
  
"Estel?"  
  
He shook his head. "No one knows, please don't tell, Legolas, please!"  
  
"Estel. . .Elladan and Elrohir. . .they know about the Elflings, and the way they treat you. Why did you never tell them, Estel? They would not have judged you or blamed you for it."  
  
"It was just something I had to do for myself," Estel whispered, as though afraid someone else would overhear. "I did not want them to worry."  
  
"That is what family does, Estel. They worry about you."  
  
"They shouldn't have to. It was easier for me when the worlds were separated. When I was with my brothers, not the Elflings, everything was all right. If Elladan and Elrohir knew, things would be different. This way, I always had some place good to go to. If I was upset, I could find my brothers and everything would be all right."  
  
"So you allowed them to manipulate you, to play those tricks on you?"  
  
Estel laughed. "You think it was only tricks?" He moved closer to the fire and lifted his tunic. The skin beneath was bruised and scarred. Legolas gasped; he had not expected that. After a moment Estel let his tunic fall again: he was ashamed of his scars, and it was cold out. When he spoke again, his voice was flat. "But it did not matter, because there were two worlds. I could always leave the bad one, even if I had to go back. It was all right, because even though there were so many terrible things, there was still goodness in the world. There was still a place where everything was happy. If I let those worlds merge, everything bad would be for ever."  
  
Legolas could not respond at first, he was so shaken by Estel's story. Finally he said, "It is not I that will be leading the others into Eregion."  
  
"But you must!" Estel cried, emotion returning to his voice. "If you do not- -"  
  
"I will not, once they have come to their senses they will not listen to me; I am foreign to them and a stranger, thusly untrusted. Estel, you must lead them." 


	6. Legolas

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof.

Author's note: In this chapter, there is a tender kiss between two males. That does not make it slash, and it is not intended in that manner. Two people can kiss without any sexual implications. If it really bothers you that two males should kiss or embrace, I highly suggest skipping over this chapter.

BlackRose1356: Most of them are still a bit shaken up from the attack, so they are not thinking much, but you will see what they do. As for no longer hurting him, well, that's a question you will have to wait till the end to know the answer to.

StriderGrrl: You'll see what happens. It's--would be a spoiler to say. Ha, read on and find out. Oh, dear, please no more swearing, if you do not mind terribly, I really don't like it. Be not so quick to judge. The Elflings have not yet been fully revealed in character, and will not be for some time more.

And thanks to all of you who reviewed! As always, I loved hearing from you!

Author's Second Note: I am eager to post this chapter, and so have not sent it to my beta-reader first. If you catch any errors, please point them out so I might fix them. Thanks a lot, it is much appreciated! Oh, and a warning: this chapter was written by an author under the influence of Enya music.

*****

The fire burned low, and Estel did not bother to add more wood to it. He turned his face instead to the east, gazing into the rising grey light that unfailingly comes forth to hail the dawn. Already a glimmer of pinkness was appearing against the horizon. With a heavy sigh, Estel turned to his Elven companion and shook him, grasping his shoulder firmly. Legolas sputtered into wakefulness. "So early..." he began to ask, but trailed off as he recalled the reason for the young hours.

"Help me get the others up," Estel said to him. "With any luck we will cover enough ground today…" They no longer had their horses and so were proceeding on foot, and were no longer sure of the distance they had yet to cover. Luckily, Legolas knew the path at least vaguely, and it had been cut more clearly for them by the Men they now followed after.

Without word Legolas obeyed, moving about the young Elves as Estel did the same, shaking them awake and moving on. In silence the camp was cleaned up, and in moments not a trace of it was left save the ashes of a smoldering fire. Each Elf rolled up his own bedroll save Legolas, who had fallen asleep upright, sitting on a log beside Estel, and of course Estel, who had found no sleep that night. They shouldered their packs and turned to Legolas for orders, but, as had been predicted, looked a bit uneasy with his rule. "Follow me," Estel commanded, and before any one had time to question he began to move. They followed him.

All day Estel led them. He seemed tireless, indeed not once slowing his pace or showing signs of stopping. Three or perhaps four times he stopped to look at broken twigs and leaves, checking for footprints and nodding his approval. There was no time for any to question him then, as Legolas told him. "You push them too hard, Estel. They are so exhausted even their minds do not think to question."

"Prince Legolas," Estel replied almost bitingly, "as you have no brothers, how do you think to understand the nature of this chase? As for question, think you that I need to quell a rebellion? Nay, I need that not." When no further explanation seemed forthcoming, Legolas ventured another inquiry.

"Do you plan to let them eat at all before one of them drops?"

Estel looked over his shoulder. "Halt!" he called out, and the Elflings willingly did. Most of them took off their packs and fell against trees, taking glad drinks of water and catching their breath. "We are stopping for the midday meal. Eat, and there is a nearby stream unless my senses deceive me. I suggest you spend this time wisely, for there will be not over-much of it!" He looked to Legolas. "If this pleases you?"

"Aye," replied Legolas, and sat himself. Estel remained standing for a moment, casting a critical eye over his companions. They were a wearied bunch now, smiling in relief that they were once again sitting and relaxing, gathering food from their packs and eating gladly with some chatter. Only one, Karnil, headed for the stream.

"Luinil!" Estel yelled. Luinil looked up, his mouth full of bread. "Go with Karnil. No one is to go anywhere alone, is that understood?" It was clear that this applied to all of them. Karnil looked at him, about to protest, and Estel added, "You did not know and are not at fault, Karnil. Have a care in the future, though."

"Yes," replied Karnil with a nod, and he and Luinil went off to the stream as a pair.

Estel nodded to their backs and ate his own meal quickly. He had not the stomach for anything more than bread, missing too much his brothers to care much for food. Standing, Estel brushed off his hands and brushed the crumbs from his tunic. Once again he cast an eye over the Elflings. "Have you all been to the stream?" he asked them.

"I have not," replied Muriel.

"Right then. Who will go with Muriel to the stream?" There were no volunteers. "Very well," Estel said with a disapproving nod. "Legolas," he said quietly, "keep an eye on them. Come on, Muriel." He moved with a sure step towards the stream. Muriel faltered, then followed after him. He had been so nice to her, and she did not understand. She had treated him so badly, and here he looked out for her. Why?

Legolas watched Estel retreat into the trees and a smile spread over his face. When he had elevated Estel to the position of leader, he had been uncertain of the boy's ability, and untrusting of mortals, but willing to take a risk on this _edain_ youth. Not only did Estel need the boost of confidence, if he failed Legolas was always there to fill in for him. With a slight feeling of disapproval with himself, Legolas realized that he had not believed in Estel at all, in fact had expected him to fall. Here, now that he had more than proved himself, Legolas could not help smile and feel somehow proud of the young one.

He remembered himself, and looked back to the others. "All right then, you lot, pair off; no one is to be left behind!"

Estel and Muriel returned shortly, and they moved onwards. For the rest of the day Estel went without stopping, nearly running at some times, truly running the rest of the time. Legolas found himself checking back more and more often that all were keeping up, and finally moved back to the end of the line just to be certain. When the sun set in the west, final blazes of light casting themselves upwards, then fading, purple colouring and leaving the clouds, darkness fell. Then Legolas sprinted back to the front of the line. "Estel, we need to stop," he said.

"Not yet," Estel replied.

"It is dark and the others are tired," Legolas told him. "Stop, or I shall force you to." At this Estel shot him a challenging look, as if to say that any offense Legolas presented Estel would destroy with ease. The Man did not slow his pace. Legolas's face turned angry, and he kicked out, looping his foot around Estel's ankles and toppling the boy. "Stop!" he called to the others. "Here we make camp for the night. Shifts will be taken for watch, two hours each. Luinil and Karnil will be on watch first, followed by Lysander and Naarie, Elemiire and Muriel, and finally Wilwarindi and myself."

"Wait a moment, what of Estel?" Luinil asked loudly. _Not so tired then_, thought Legolas. 

"Yes, what of Estel?" asked Estel, getting to his feet and rubbing various sore places.

"Estel will not be taking watch tonight, as he did for all of last night after the attack. Luinil, Karnil, it is your job to get a fire going. The rest of you, get to sleep!" At his order they did. Knowing he would have something to say, Legolas stayed near Estel.

"Why did you do that?" Estel demanded in a hiss as he set out his bedroll to sleep.

"Because I had to, Estel," Legolas replied. He would not admit that he saw Estel as too young and also inferior in abilities, as he was a mortal. "You were pushing yourself far too hard. Be reasonable, or I shall do so for you. If you do not sleep now, I shall have to knock you over the head with a blunt object." Legolas meant this as a joke, but he saw Estel quiver at the memory of the previous night. "I did not mean it that way, Estel," Legolas replied apologetically. All around the site, the other Elflings were setting out bedrolls and chattering tiredly, clambering into their blankets to sleep still talking, or lighting a fire. As Legolas watched, Luinil failed to strike up a fire, and Karnil took the flint stone and gently showed him how it was done properly. Tears sprang to his eyes, and Legolas wrapped his arms around Estel once more. "They will be all right, Estel. We will all make it through this." He felt the boy nod. "Get some rest," he added, and as much to his surprise as to the _edan_'s, Legolas kissed Estel's brow lovingly before leaving him in peace.


	7. Wilwarindi

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof

Author's note: I am quite eager to finish this story and begin the next one in the series, so expect a lot of updates in rapid procession. I'm sure that does not bother any one? And to add to that, I've got a new CD that has completely inspired me to write this one scene that comes up in about two, maybe three chapters. So you can expect those to come quite quick. This chapter is short and un-beta'd, sorry, I only just wrote it and I've got to go to class but wanted to post. Hope you all enjoy!

And, as usual, thank you to everyone who reviewed!

*****

Estel awoke just before dawn. He gazed about. The others slept deeply, almost peacefully. Wilwarindi and Legolas sat by the fire, Wilwarindi stooping just slightly with fatigue. Shaking his head, Estel rose and walked to the fire. "Well, I never really--" Wilwarindi was beginning to say.

Estel rested a hand on Wilwarindi's shoulder, and Wilwarindi went quiet at once. "Go and sleep," Estel told Wilwarindi gently. "I will find no more rest here; take what little you can." With an uncertain nod Wilwarindi left, and Estel occupied the space he had vacated. Legolas raised an eyebrow at the mortal. "I will not be able to sleep again, Legolas."

"All right," Legolas consented. "You know, Estel…"

"Hm?" Estel had been gazing off at the horizon again, but at the sound of Legolas's voice he turned. "What is it?"

"Oh, nothing, it was not important. Look, the sun rises. Poor Wilwarindi, we shall wake him just as he falls asleep," Legolas observed. His intentions were clear, and had struck true: a look of uncertainty crossed Estel's face. He realized then that for his brothers, he had pushed the others far harder than he had intended. He was willing to risk them for his brothers' safety. Estel was about to reply that such was simply Wilwarindi's sorrow, but stopped himself, and thought for a moment.

"Perhaps…perhaps until the sun is fully visible. But then we must go, Legolas," Estel acquiesced, with this term. Together the two watched the sun creep slowly over the horizon, an eternal reminder of constant renewal. "This one our constant renewal," Estel whispered.

"What?" asked Legolas, bemused.

"I read it in a book once," Estel answered, and turned back to the rising sun, distortedly beautiful. When the orb hung fully over the horizon, Estel stood up and yawned. He stretched his muscles a bit, then said, "Come, Legolas. We have no more time to waste in idle."

The day passed much similarly to the first, but Estel behaved far better. He kept to a slow run steadily throughout the entire day, stopping at midday and allowing the others time to rest, even talk a bit, before moving on again. At the end of the day, as the sun was setting, Estel stopped them all and assigned watches, giving himself first watch and Legolas the last.

After a quite uneventful watch with Naarie, Estel fell asleep easily. He had not even time to look at the stars or to think about tomorrow. He simply closed his eyes and slept, and the next morning he woke with an odd sensation of being quite pleased with himself. Though he would never admit it out loud, Estel believed he was at last doing the right thing. Though worry for his brothers overshadowed all other emotions, he balanced the importance of their safety with the safety of those he led. They moved out at dawn.

At noon, just as Estel was beginning to think about stopping for the midday meal, he stumbled--and noticed there were no longer any trees around him. He looked back and saw a solid line of trees behind him, through which the others were clambering, and ahead of him a city surrounded by a crude wall of wood, painted with tar. In the distance was another, similar city, and perhaps distance improved the workmanship of the wall around the far city. For a moment Estel could not move. The others, too, stopped beside him in wonder and awe. They had made it. Under Estel's leadership, they had found the cities in Eregion. They were going to rescue Elladan and Elrohir. Everything was going to be all right.

A great cheer rose from the group, a wordless shout of happiness, of triumph. After just a moment of uncertainty, Estel lent his voice.


	8. Legolas

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any recognizable characters and/or places thereof.

StriderGrrl: He pushes himself because he is used to being told that he is a Man and thus inferior to the Elves. He has something to prove. Also, he seeks to rescue his brothers, who mean more to him than life itself. I don't know what you mean by "what's up with Muriel" or I would answer. Meh, I've seen it done both ways. Haha, I'm actually just too lazy to go back and fix it. But I have seen it done both ways. They haven't really had time to stop and think yet. Soon they will.

Aratfeniel: My story is like one of those novels you pick up at a bookstore because you're bored, and it turns out being an enjoyable read, from your review. That makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I love hearing from you all!

*****

Estel felt a hand on his shoulder. "Get them under control," Legolas whispered, his breath hot in Estel's ear. Yet when Estel turned, Legolas was looking straight ahead as though he had said nothing. Estel gave Legolas a grateful smile he could only hope the Elf saw.

"All right, all right!" Estel said loudly. "We are all excited, but our job is yet unfinished." Again the others bent to his will, quieting. With a swift motion, Estel lead them onwards. When they reached the gates of the city, Estel and Legolas leading, at first no one was sure of what to do. Luckily, two guards were situated in a watchtower, and called down to the small procession, "Who are you, and what are you doing here?"

Estel looked to Legolas, who prodded him to answer. The mortal looked up to the guards, shaded his eyes, and cried back, "We come from Lord Elrond of Imladris!" There was a moment in which the guards conferred, and Estel wondered if he had said something wrong, and if they were going to be turned away. His heart fluttered. If they were not allowed in, then Elladan and Elrohir…

The gates slowly opened with a loud creaking sound, and Estel calmed at once. He had said the right thing, it appeared. One of the doorguards had descended, and stood before the group. He was an inch or two taller than Estel, and shorter than Legolas by at least a head. This seemed to make him quite nervous, and he shook just slightly. "Welcome, visitors," he said. "Come; I will take you to our King." With this he turned and strode away, leaving the Imladris crew to follow in his wake.

"Rather presumptuous, calling their leader a King," Estel muttered to Legolas.

"Probably what he calls himself. Think on it, Estel. He wants to seem important, wishes to be unquestioned in his rule, or is uncertain of his own ability and command. Either way, he is an upstart. Tread with care in his presence. He will look for insult," Legolas advised. Estel nodded slowly, taking these words to mind as he observed the city around him. There was little to see; the place was poorly constructed, as though made in haste. _Likely it -was- made in haste_, Estel realized. Something struck him as odd, but he was unsure of what. Absorbed in searching for this problem, Estel only realized they had reached the King's Hall when the door was opened and he was motioned in.

Even the hall was of shoddy quality, rather contrasting with the King. He was an older man, older than Estel had ever seen, well in to his forties, perhaps early in his fifties. Dark, thin hair fell back from his face, revealing a weathered look, skin like leather, but not an unkind glint to his eyes. For a moment the group from Imladris stopped, simply staring, for none of them had ever seen a person showing such age. Then Estel lowered himself to one knee, and the others followed. "We come bearing word from Lord Elrond of Imladris, so please you, lord," said Estel, knowing that at least this had been done in proper.

"And what does the Elven Lord say?" asked the King.

"He says, lord, that if you cannot form your own peace, he shall have to send his sons to do so. Also with this message came his sons--but of last night they were taken by your own Men. In their stead, we have come," with this Estel motioned to the group behind him, and to Legolas beside him, and to himself. "It is our duty to instate and oversee negotiations."

"I know nothing of these Elves you say are in my keeping. Lord Elrond's behaviour is rather brazen of one with no involvement in our doings," commented the King.

"Yes, were it so," Estel agreed. "But it is not. More Men and Elves are coming to Imladris every day seeking healing, and--" Estel caught himself just in time. He had started to say "my father"--now why had he done that? "Lord Elrond will refuse them, if he must. If you cannot find peace in this life, you may find it in your deaths."

Estel held his breath when he had finished saying this, fully afraid that he had gone too far--and the King began to laugh. The younger mortal looked up curiously. "Very well, very well. Lord Elrond sends us Elf children and a half-pint boy, does he? Let him close his borders to us, but I will not grudge you the orders you follow. You all must be tired, and will be accommodated for the night. You, boy, are the leader of these rag-tags, then?"

"Aye, sir," replied Estel, and added under his breath, "though rag-tags they be not."

"Then you may tell your lord that we need not his healing skill, for it is the Elves that take the greatest offense, not us," the King said.

"Aye, sir," Estel repeated, and gladly left the Hall, following the doorguard.

*****

Later that night, as Estel tied his hair back to sleep and stared out the window into the inky sky, Legolas knocked on the door, then slipped in, carefully making sure to shut the door behind him. The whole of their company had been granted lodgings and a meal, with the firmest intentions of visiting the Elves on the morrow. "What are your thoughts?" asked Legolas, sitting on the bed.

"I think I want my brothers free, and the King is not going to let them go," Estel replied. Legolas gazed on him with a sigh in his eyes.

"You are too attached to this, Estel. If you want your brothers back, you must view things from an outsider's perspective. Mark my words, without your emotional blindness you will be free, but with it, your brothers will remain captive, and who knows to what end? Take a moment, and tell me your thoughts--not Estel's thoughts, yours."

With a deep, shaking breath Estel said slowly, "The King is being polite, in a rude way. He is proud, and will not admit that his people are falling. That was what felt strange in the city today--there was no one about. Why? I think, also, that Ada was correct in saying that if these two peoples do not find peace they will destroy each other."

"He said that?"

"Yes."

Legolas laughed bitterly. "You ask me why no one was about today; I will answer you. Either they fear us, because we are Elves, or they were all occupied elsewhere. Ask not where, for I know not. Do you see any implications in my speech?"

"You said…they fear you. How did they know Elves were coming, when not a single being was seen? Also, the idea of everyone being occupied elsewhere suggests that even children have some form of…job in this city. Perhaps they are schooled, as are we, so that they may be easier sent out as warriors?" As soon as these words had left his mouth, Estel clapped a hand to his mouth. He had never thought of things this way before--but it was true. He began to shake. Legolas jumped up from the bed and held the boy gently.

"No, Estel, it is not at all like that," Legolas soothed. "Imladris is nothing like that." He felt Estel nodding against his chest, and released the boy. "You do understand?"

"Yes…yes, of course. Legolas, are you all right?" Estel's voice changed in an instant from one of detachment to one of true concern.

"Fine, I am just tired," Legolas replied, yawning.

"You should get some sleep," Estel said. "Go on, I will be all right." 

As Estel bid, Legolas left, returning to his room to sleep the night. Estel realized that he, too, was tired, and stretched out on the bed. 'Just a few moments,' he thought. He did not trust the King enough to sleep. 'I am only resting my eyes…'

*****

Estel awoke to the sounds of clamor and struggle in the corridor just outside. Usually, under such circumstances, he would snap awake in moments, but now his muscles were lethargic yet, and his vision blurred. With great effort he grabbed his sword from beside the bed and threw open the door. In the hall, havoc reigned. Men and Elves fought each other, but the Men were winning, aiming obviously to subdue, not kill. Why did the Elves move so slowly? Estel wondered as he dashed into the fray, suddenly able to move again, though still a little slowed.

Estel saw Elemmiire, and knew at once that the Elfling was in direct danger. A Man had a sword gripped over his head and was bringing it down. Without thinking, Estel ducked beneath one Man's arm and swerved around another. He had only enough time to thrust his blade in the path of the hilt headed for the base of Elemmiire's skull, before he felt something smash into him. Pain shot through Estel, and his muscles jerked. Spots exploded in front of his eyes, and then everything went black.

*****

TBC! Please review, because I do feel that this chapter was done poorly but cannot say what is wrong with it, and perhaps one of you knows? 

I think this one will be finished up in about four chapters, so I'll let you guys know my story itinerary in a later chapter if anyone wants. 


	9. Sierra

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof

Author's Note: Wow…this was going to be a relatively short chapter…so much for that!

Littlesaiyangirl: Estel was implying that the King was more or less using every child as a soldier, and he did this by unconsciously comparing that to his classes with the other Elflings.

Grumpy: They had to do something. It is not exactly honourable to sneak in after dark and bully your way back out, if you know what I mean.

Aratfeniel: Yes, you will find out. Sharp suspicions there! 

Sailor-girl420: I know what you mean and it was purposely done. As Estel grows, the story changes. When he learns guarded speech, much more is left implied and unsaid.

*****

Estel awoke with a jolt and a gasp. Elemmiire! No…perhaps not…perhaps it had only been a childish dream. Certainly, that must be the case, thought Estel. It was simply not possible. No law would permit what he thought he had seen the night before. But what did he think he had seen the night before? Calmly, Estel collected his thoughts. In the dream, the others had been out in the hall. They had been fighting with a group of Men. The dream had not been particularly graphic, nor accurate, for Estel did not remember seeing most of the others, only Elemmiire remained clear in his memory. Estel got to his feet, thinking to tell Legolas of the strange phantasm.

"Oh, you are awake! Be careful, now. Honestly, I cannot imagine what they thought, a child such as yourself!" a young woman exclaimed, rushing over to Estel. Before he had time to question she was easing him back into bed.

"Stop it," Estel said, for the first time really seeing his surroundings. It was not the room he had fallen asleep in; it was a white room. Everything looked spotlessly cleaned, and smelled that way, too. There were five other beds in the room, evenly spaced along the walls, and windows at either end. It was more a hall than a room, and with a sinking feeling Estel realized that he had, in fact, not dreamed everything.

"Please, sit down," the young woman said. She sounded a little harassed, and so Estel did as he was asked. "Thank you. I would be in ever so much trouble otherwise!"

"Why?" asked Estel gently. Not only did he know that she might suffice as an ally to him, he truly felt sorry for this girl. "It is all right, you can tell me. Here, sit down." She nodded and sat beside him, uncomfortably. Estel looked at her, really looked, and saw an almost pretty youth with chestnut brown hair and lean, reddened cheeks. But it was her eyes where he saw more. He had seen those eyes before. More important, however, was learning of this girl. "Why are you so frightened?"

"When I--my mother, that is, she was a mortal, but my father was Elven. When I was born, the midwife left a knife over the fire, then used it to slice my ears so they would look normal. But then when I started to grow, the process was so slow that everyone knew. Before she died, my mother secured me an apprenticeship as a healer. It was the best she could have done for me," the girl said quickly.

"And your father?" asked Estel.

"I never knew him," she shook her head. "I was so lucky that they let me live…they might have killed me. As it is, I am not permitted in most public areas. When I walk down the streets, people sometimes throw things at me or shove me. But at the least, I have my life."

"That is terrible!" Estel exclaimed. "How could you endure such torment?"

"Because…why are you being so kind to me?" she asked suddenly. "You are a Man."

"The Elves raised me," he explained. "They are my family. And they taught me to respect and value all life."

"Then you know what it is to be inferior!"

"Inferior?"

"Yes. The Elves are inferior, everyone knows it--"

"That is not so."

"But surely…surely, they had you captive? It is all over the city, your story!"

Estel drew back, surprised. "My story?"

"Oh, yes! The story of how you were captive of the Elves, and they controlled your mind. Every one has heard of the way you fought to protect them last night. Some frown upon it, but I know that in truth it was not your doing, for no Man would ever befriend an Elf," the girl told this story in a rush of words, leaving Estel blinking, confused.

"Wait, wait--that is not true," Estel said. "I was raised by the Elves in Imladris, by choice did I come here with them. We were sent by Lord Elrond to engage in negotiations with your people. No one controls my thoughts." His mind flashed to Lady Galadriel, but he did not think that was quite what the girl referred to.

"It cannot be so! You are clearly having illusions brought on by this illness!" exclaimed the girl, and she felt his forehead for fever.

"Stop that," Estel said irritably, taking her hand away from his face. She cringed and drew her hand back. "Listen to me, girl. Who tells you these things, about the terrors of Elves?"

"Every one does."

"And do you not think that living in a city, behind walls, probably most of their lives, save to battle with Elves, they might not have a slightly skewered opinion?"

"I--" she paused. "I never really thought about it that way…"

"They hit you, don't they?" he asked in a soft voice. He had noticed her cringing as he moved her hand, and knew that either someone was mistreating the girl, or she was very distrustful. As she had told him practically her entire life's story, he suspected the latter to be untrue. "You can tell me, it is all right."

"Some times," she whispered. "They often threaten to send me to the Elves, who are ever so much more terrible!"

"No! The Elves abhor violence in any form! They would not treat you badly. These are lies you have been told."

"Possibly," she replied with a slight shrug. "But then, who is to say that you are not lying? You may have gathered your senses, as you claim, but you may yet be under the control of the Elves. Perhaps you cannot remember their violence towards you?"

"At least you have sense," replied Estel. He began to argue again for the sake of the Elves, and then considered the others, his yearmates, and the treatment he received at their hands. Just as he was inclined to agree with the girl, his thoughts turned away from his yearmates, to his father and his brothers, and even Legolas, who had been so wonderful to him. How could he say that they were horrible? "But the Elves have been good to me ever. What of your people?"

"And yours!"

"Nay! You think I know not, that your King slipped me a sleeping draught, and this is why I could not act to save my comrades? The Elves have never done that to me!" Again, guiltily, he realized they had, but not under the same circumstances: once, many years ago, Estel had hurt his arm very badly and Elrond had given him a sleeping potion that he might be out of pain for a time. That was completely different, however. "And how are my friends being treated now, do you suppose?"

"It is not my place to wonder at such things," replied the girl, meekly. At some sound she froze. "I hear footsteps," she told Estel. "Quick, lay down. I am only to clean in this room, and not to speak to anyone. Please, do not tell them!" With this she sprang from the bed and took up a broom from the corner. Estel did lie down, and closed his eyes in meditation. He needed to get the others free, he knew, but how? It would take the girl's help. How long had they been captive? There were windows, but Estel was too disoriented to judge the time by the sunlight. His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp voice.

"Sierra!"

"Yes, milady?" the girl answered. Sierra: that must have been her name--Estel put this to his memory, and listened closely.

"Leave this room now, I must see to the boy."

"Yes, lady," the girl said, and Estel heard the door close as she obeyed.

*****

By nightfall there were five more Men occupying the room. They had come in during the day, wounded, from a battle with the Elves. Estel had watched and wanted to help with the healing of the Men, knowing that the methods being used were archaic and unlikely to do any good. 'Athelas, Athelas!' he thought, but was not allowed to do anything, and so only watched the healers hurry about shouting orders, and listened to the groans of the ill Men. 

Estel had been given two meals that day, as he was unconscious through breakfast, and both meals he was afraid would be watched over. Luckily they were not, and the _edan_ child was free to slip his tea out the window, fearing that it would be drugged. There was a nice bed of flowers just outside, and Estel hoped whatever drug had been slipped in would not hurt them. When at last the sun sets, the injured Men drifted off or were drugged off to sleep. Estel, too, was given a sedative, but he had kept it in his mouth until the healers left, then had hurriedly spat it out the window.

When the moon rose, Estel slipped from beneath the covers of his bed and sat on the windowsill, looking out at the luminous orb of night. His mind went straight away to thoughts of his brothers and Legolas, and of Muriel, Lysander, and all his yearmates, locked away so unfairly, simply because of the way they were born. Oh, how he wanted to help! But what could he do?

"Hey," said a small voice, beside Estel.

"Sierra!" he exclaimed.

"Shh! Yes," she replied. "Your words stayed with me, and I had to see for myself the truth of the matter."

"My brothers! You have seen my brothers? And the others, you have seen them? Where? How do they fare? May I see them, also?" Estel shot a volley of questions at her all at once.

"I do not know who your brothers are, but I have seen Elves. They are in prison, and fare badly. They wish to be freed. Two of them--they looked frighteningly similar--"

"The twins!" Estel interjected. "My brothers. Tell me they are well!"

"I cannot. They are unwell. The others wish only to be freed and are unwell only in that they have hardly eaten in a day, and were taken unconscious to their cell. The twins, as you call them, fare worse. They have been beaten. I'm sorry."

"Take me to them," he demanded. "Please."

For a moment Sierra was silent. She bit her lip, then said at long last, "Oh, I will be punished for this…" To Estel, she added, "Come with me, but you must be silent." She left the room, taking with her a candle from beside the door, and Estel followed out into a dark corridor. "We will turn right at the end of that corridor, then down the first staircase we come to. The storeroom at the end of the first-floor hall has a window facing the prison where your companions are being kept. Follow me." She crept onwards, making her way down the corridor. Estel followed, hardly able to see for the darkness. When they reached the stairs, he was more than glad.

It was an odd staircase, and Estel saw it at once for an obstacle. On the inside the staircase wound along a wall and there was a rail on the outer side, with a landing partway down. The stairs made a right turn at the landing, and no more could be seen. Anyone could easily sneak up on them. Estel paused, and Sierra's candle bobbed on. She paused, also, realizing he had not followed, and turned. "Come on!" she hissed, and Estel scurried onwards.

All the while he listened for the sounds of footsteps, yet when he heard them, he nearly shouted in surprise. Sierra turned to him, and her face betrayed her worry. "I can melt into shadow," she said, and Estel nodded, for all Elves could do this, "but you--you must take the candle and run back to the sickroom! Quick!"

"I know not the way!" he hissed. "Here--" then he took the candle and pinched out the flame. What he was about to do was highly dangerous, but he would risk it. Without thinking he placed both hands firmly on the rail, then swung over first one leg, then the other. He jammed his feet through the spaces between the balustrades, lowered himself to a crouch, and grabbed the rail firmly. With a few quick words to the Valar Estel let his feet dangle, and hung only by his out-stretched arms.

As the footsteps continued to approach Estel did not breathe. He thought for sure he had been caught, that whomever approached would find him there and then it would be over; he would be unable to rescue his brothers, Legolas, and his classmates. He could feel tears itching at his eyes, and only the knowledge that he yet had a chance sustained him. At long last he felt Sierra's hand on his wrist, and heard her whisper, "It is past. Can you raise yourself?" With much difficulty, he could

Estel's heart was pounding so hard he was sure some one would hear, but as he and Sierra continued down the stairs this proved to be not so. They reached the first floor without any problem, and made their way down another corridor. Estel kept his ears alert, but heard no more footsteps. When Sierra stopped, his heart hammered against his ribcage. "Something is wrong?" he asked.

"We are here," she replied, and twisted the doorknob. "Locked!"

"Move aside," Estel said. If he had not been searched for weapons--ah! Hidden in the secret pocket of his tunic, against his chest, was a knife. Estel took this out and knelt beside the door, inserting the knife into the keyhole.

"How long?" Sierra asked.

"Three minutes, maybe," he replied, concentrating. Perhaps half a minute had passed before she said, "Um…sir?"

"What is it?" he asked, turning, exasperated.

"Someone's coming. I hear them."

With a curse Estel turned back to the lock and began to work at it harder, twisting the knife carefully. Down the hall, he could hear the footsteps, too._ 'Come on, come on!'_ he urged silently, sweat breaking out on his forehead. Sierra, beside him, was chewing her nails nervously. As the footsteps reached the floor, there was a soft click. Estel glanced at Sierra, and for a moment they met each other's eyes and froze, then he reached for the doorknob--it turned! They bolted inside, and shut the door just in time.

Estel leaned against the door and closed his eyes, relieved. "Sierra--my name is Estel," he muttered. She nodded and went over to the window.

"Oh, no!" Sierra exclaimed.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Can you swim?" she asked him.

"Of course I can. Is that relevant?" he asked, somewhat annoyed.

"Listen to me now, Estel. I have listened and trusted you, now you trust me." With these words, Sierra made Estel realize that he had blindly trusted her so far, and now she was asking him to do so even more. "The usual guard is off tonight. The replacement…what I mean is, we cannot approach the prison by my usual route. Instead, we will need to take a more…subtle path."

"What does that mean?"

*****

"…so people just dump sewage down these drains, and the river carries it away. The lake is five miles away from here, and the smell, you must be able to smell it. Awful. The result of this? Modern waste disposal, but also a pathway to anywhere in the city we want to go," Sierra explained. They had dropped through a great hole beneath a water basin in the storeroom, and were now beneath the city, in an odd sort of tunnel. They had rekindled their small light, and gathered up another, so now each carried a candle along the strange pathway.

"And the noises?" asked Estel.

"Only rats," Sierra replied lightly. "Here we are!" She motioned towards a wooden circle in the ceiling, about three feet above their heads. "I never thought of the height…"

"Get up on my shoulders," Estel suggested. They set their candles on the floor, melting the wax so that they would stick, then Estel helped her to up. She had to bend to fit, but managed to raise the wooden circle with her palms, and pushed it aside. At once a dirty, disheveled Elven face appeared, and she recoiled in fear. "It is all right!" Estel called up to her, easily seeing the faces of his allies. "Go on through!" Nervously, she did so, assisted by Legolas.

"There now, are you all right?" he asked her. "I am going to bring up Estel, just a moment." He moved Sierra aside. Estel jumped and managed to grab hold of the floor--or ceiling, depending on which perspective you took. Legolas helped him along, then they replaced the wooden cover carefully. "It is so good to see you," Legolas said, embracing Estel.

"You are all right?" Estel asked as Legolas released him. "And the others?" They were all in some place or another in the cramped cell; on the floor or standing, asleep.

"Yes, yes, we are all right."

"My brothers?"

"Estel…I am sorry."

Estel swallowed hard. "Where?" Legolas pointed. The mortal moved to the bars of the cell that held his friends. Across the hall was another cell, where two Elves were in a jumbled heap against the wall. They were sleeping, it seemed. "Elladan?" Estel said, tears choking him as he tried to keep them down. "Elrohir?"

"Who is that?" asked Elladan, stirring. His eyes focused, and for a moment he looked in disbelief. "E-Estel? Estel! Elrohir, wake up! Wake up, it's Estel!" The twins rushed to the bars, revealing bruises on the faces, calling their brother's name, and they reached across the hall. Estel shoved his shoulder through the bars, and his fingers just met those of his brothers. The three were nearly in tears.

"But you are all right?" Estel asked.

"All right enough. You do plan on getting us out, do you not?" Elrohir asked.

"I will, Elrohir, I swear it. You will not be here long, I promise," Estel said, though he had no plan. The sad state of his brothers moved him, and he would not allow their suffering to continue.

"Estel," said a small voice. It was Sierra. "The knife."

"What?"

"When we were going into the storeroom," she reminded him. "Can you do that to those locks there?"

Estel looked at the lock on the cell door. "It is worth a try!" he said, and made his way over to it. By twisting his arm painfully, Estel jammed the knife into the lock. Tears of pain came to his eyes after two minutes of jimmying the knife in the lock, and only the thought of his brothers kept him going. It felt like hours passed with no results. At last the knife slipped, and Estel gasped as it cut into his hand. "I'm so sorry," he muttered.

"Estel?" Legolas asked. "Look."

Estel did, and saw that the cell door had opened. "I--I--I--"

"You did it," Legolas told him. "Now, go and get your brothers while I wake the others." While Estel realized he was being treated like a child, he did as he was told. Each second was an eternity of fear, until at last with a creak the door to the twins' cell opened. Estel slipped the knife back into his pocket, and then was wrapped in a tight embrace.

"Elladan, Elrohir!" Estel protested playfully.

"We have to move," Legolas said. "I am sorry, my friends, but if we tarry here long there will be trouble. Come; I will lead."

"No," said Sierra. "I know the way out, let me lead." Legolas looked to Estel, who nodded. Sierra began to move towards the front, and they followed her.

"This is crazy, the front entrance will be heavily guarded!" Legolas hissed.

"No," Sierra replied. "You do not know the King, but I do. In an attempt to pre-empt any escape, he will guard the back way heavier than the front. If we stand any chance, this is it." She came to the door. "Go now. May the Valar be with you."

"Sierra…" Estel paused, but she shoved him onwards and out into the darkened streets.

Within moments the small band was discovered. He sun was rising, and the light helped the Men see the Elves, and gave no advantages to the Elves. Their numbers were thinning. "This way!" Elladan called, motioning. Estel followed him, not knowing who ran beside him, thinking only for himself. Elladan led him down an empty alleyway, then stopped. "In here," he said, holding open a door. Estel slipped through, and moved into the room.

It was a weapons storehouse. All manner of weaponry--swords, shields, bows, arrows, axes, spears, scythes--were piled about the room. Estel had never seen so many dangerous things all at once. "Take what ever you like," Elladan said, letting the door slam shut. "But take something. We will be fighting our way out."

Estel looked around for a moment. Elladan, Elrohir, Legolas, Lysander, Wilwarindi, Naarie, and Elemmiire were all numbly choosing weapons that suited them best. Three were missing from their number: Luinil, Karnil, and Muriel. In the grey room, Estel took the time to say a prayer for them. "Hurry on," said Legolas, placing a hand on Estel's shoulder and making him jump. "Time is short."

*****

TBC


	10. Estel

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof  
  
Eledhwen: I know that the dialogue isn't perfect, and I don't mean to be unkind, but if you expect it to be I'm not the author whose stories you'd like reading. When I'm writing, I don't go over everything with a fine- toothed comb, if you understand. The speech is imperfect, I know, but truth be told I don't really know how to make it all that better and keep it sounding real. Lysander and Oswald were characters in A Midsummer Night's Dream and King Lear, and Sierra was, of course, named for my local mountain range--but I did not want to call her Nevada. Just kidding. Estel knows that he is Hope, foster son of Elrond of Rivendell, brother to Elladan and Elrohir, and, in his own mind, someone, though he knows not who. He does not know that his father was Arathorn, and I suppose that's what you meant.  
  
Trinity Black: Well, either way, hearing that really made me feel much better about this story. Thanks so much!  
  
Lady Laughing Owl: Are we thinking of the same "Chanukah, Chanukah"? As in, "Chanukah oh Chanukah come light the menorah, let's have a party we'll all dance the hora. . ."? If not, then I don't know what song you mean. And your words to "Athelas, Athelas" don't match up so well. No offense. You have to sing it for me some time, because I want to know how that song goes.  
  
Leggylover03: He will, but not for a few more chapters.  
  
*****  
  
Estel panted, his sword hanging loosely from one hand as he sprinted across the open field. Elladan had looked uncertain when Estel had said he would follow last, but had not protested: there had been not the time. True to Elladan's foresight, there had been something of a battle for the Elves to leave the city. Their numbers were no more intact as they crossed the open area and headed for the trees. Again, Estel had noticed that the intentions of the Men were to subdue, not to kill. Why? "We make for the trees!" Estel called. "There we will regroup, and return to the city in stealth to recover those lost to our ranks."  
  
The others had stopped, and Estel with them. "No," Elladan said. "We will make for the trees, then return to Imladris. A proper party can be deployed, not a group of students. Glorfindel, or--"  
  
"Elladan, look at yourself. A matter of days in their hands and you are bruised all over. You would leave the others there for weeks, maybe? No," Estel countered, shaking his head. "No one gets left behind."  
  
"Estel," Elrohir said in a condescending tone. Legolas shot him a warning look, but he did not see it. What was Elrohir doing? Estel was no child! "In our absence you lead the group, and as we have heard you did a fine job of it. But with our return, you are no longer required to lead. We will be taking that job from here on out."  
  
Estel could hardly believe his ears. Elrohir had never treated him that way before! For a moment his mouth hung open, disbelieving, then he slowly shook his head. "No," he whispered.  
  
"Estel," Elrohir warned.  
  
"No!" the boy said loudly. He looked around him, and saw Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas, Lysander and Wilwarindi. Where were Naarie and Elemmiire? They must have been taken back in the city. "We followed your original plan, and this is where it got us. Circumstance forced me to become a leader all to quickly, and you cannot instruct me to lose the skills necessity taught. I will return to the city. All of you make these choices for yourself. As have I."  
  
For a moment there was silence, and it seemed as though the others would choose to return to Imladris. What would Estel do, in those circumstances? Would he return with them, or would he seek to save his comrades? Would returning to the city alone be his doom? It mattered not; he had spoken, and would do as he had said, regardless. He straightened his posture with certainty. And then, as if by some strange miracle, Lysander took one faltering step forwards, and knelt before Estel. "Where you lead me, I will follow you," Lysander stated. "I should never have doubted you."  
  
"Thank you," Estel replied, his voice choked by tears as Lysander stood behind him.  
  
Wilwarindi seemed even more uncertain, and he fidgeted, his face showing his torn emotions. For a moment Estel believed he and Lysander would be going on alone, and while he feared for Lysander's safety, he accepted that Lysander continued with him of his own free will, knowing the risks of his actions. To everyone's great surprise, it was Legolas that next strode forward and, clapping Estel on the shoulder, said, "You have proven your worth, young one. May the Valar guide you, that we may be following them."  
  
The twins glanced at each other. Now they realized that their brother would truly follow through, and for the first time experienced that they were not only his brothers but also his protectors. The Hope of Men rested in their hands, and now he risked his life and fate for others, that had so gravely mistreated him. If Estel did not return, they would not only blame themselves and mourn for the loss of a brother, but of what might be the last great King. As one they moved, and stood behind their mortal brother.  
  
And Wilwarindi? He would not be left behind.  
  
*****  
  
TBC (sorry for the shortness of this chapter. Good readers review!) 


	11. Legolas

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any recognizable characters and/or places thereof.  
  
Author's Note: I know that I keep posting short chapters. Bear with me, I am writing them before school every day.  
  
Lady Laughing Owl: I think I actually had heard the song before, but making you sing it at the museum was far better than listening to it on tape. I still laugh about that.  
  
Grumpy: Um. . .because I did not think of that. Just kidding. The sewer system ends at an underground lake--I learned about those in bio-science a few years ago and was fascinated--so by following the sewers, they would only come out in a lake full of sewage with no exit.  
  
*****  
  
They had started a small fire, dragged logs close around it, and caught a brace of rabbits which none were sorry to see turned to stew. Most of this was done by Estel, who did not grudge the labor, for he knew that, of the six, he was in the best physical condition and was the most rested. Elemmiire and Lysander did not stray from the fire, but chose seats beside each other and sipped stew in silence. It seemed they were most comfortable around each other, and were rather wary. The twins had a grateful air to them, and Legolas seemed in the same position as Estel: watching, and waiting. "You would be well to rest," Legolas advised. Elemmiire and Lysander looked to him and nodded, and did as he suggested. They kept themselves curled up on the ground, but their breathing grew deep and their muscles relaxed. "It would not hurt you two, either," he added with a nod in the twins' general direction.  
  
"You will keep watch?" Elrohir asked, to which Legolas replied that he would, and so Elrohir, also committed himself to sleep. It was growing darker by now, the sun setting and the shadows lengthening. A few birds in the trees sang their fare-thee-wells to the daytime and to the light. Nocturnal creatures would soon awaken, but now was the time when the diurnal animals took to their dens, nests, or holes. Elves, in general, were diurnal, but two sat up, staring at each other across a campfire.  
  
"I think someone should go and check that we have a secure perimeter," Legolas said to Elladan.  
  
"I will--" said Estel, getting to his feet, but Legolas stayed him with a hand to the boy's arm.  
  
"You stay here with Elladan; I will check the perimeter."  
  
Estel sighed, but he nodded. Once again, he was just an edan boy, useless and childish. That wasn't how he saw himself, and, he swore, it never would be, but it was the way the others treated him. Without a sound Legolas disappeared into the trees, and Estel knew it was best the Elf had gone, for no Man could walk upon such silent feet. Elladan shifted across the fire to sit next to his little brother. "You are all right, Estel?" he asked in an amiable tone, but with not-so-well hidden undertones of worry.  
  
"I am fine, Elladan. And you? What--what happened to you--in there?" he motioned back towards the city. "Of course, if you wish not to talk about it, I will not press the matter."  
  
"They thought Elrohir and I knew something that we did not know," was all Elladan would say. "You fared well in our absence, did you not, little brother? You led our people to the city to rescue us and negotiate with the Men there, you sprung us free from that prison and led us back out again. And just earlier, on the fields, you did show a great maturity and care for others."  
  
"Oh, yes?" asked Estel sarcastically. "I endangered the one person in that city I even began to care about, and I endangered you, also! Supposing I had been caught in those cells, or on the way out? I had no plan of action, I allowed my emotions to control me and did not even think! I put every person I have ever loved in extreme danger. Elladan, I relinquish any leadership I may have; you take it."  
  
"Estel. . ." Elladan said gently, not sure of what came next. Estel was staring into the fire, blinking back tears. He had success and did not cry, but the look on his face cried for him. "You did what you had to, to help those you care about. They were in danger already, and any action would have increased this danger. But under your leadership they made it to safety. Look at the way you ran last out of the city. That took courage, Estel."  
  
"Thanks, Elladan," Estel said after a decently long time. "Although there is one thing, it has been bothering me since the city. . ."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"How did you know where that weapons cache was?" Estel asked, looking at his brother. The turmoil on Elladan's face, and his uncertain silence, answered more than one question for the edan boy. "It is all right, Elladan. Every one does dumb things when they are young. Doubtless, you might have owned up to your actions, but. . .it must have been killing you to keep quiet all this time, never tell Ada or even Elrohir--does Elrohir know?"  
  
"No, Elrohir does not know. Estel, you now know a deep secret of mine. . .and I ask that you keep it quiet."  
  
"Of course I will, Elladan."  
  
"Have you given any thought to a plan of action?"  
  
"Yes. I a yet to formulate a full plan, but I--"  
  
At that moment Legolas returned at a run. "I am sorry to interrupted. I scouted as large a perimeter as I could, and I saw something that may be of interest to us. Unless incorrectly have I read the signs, the Elves of the second city are planning a night attack on the city of Men."  
  
*****  
  
To be continued 


	12. Estel

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof.  
  
Lady Laughing Owl: And the people at the Getty are right! Yes, you do, and as you are not editing this story you have no good excuse. **pouts** I feel so unloved. . .(haha, I am joking. But you do leave generic reviews)  
  
Jack Sparrow: Well, I think that much better than ending it abruptly and without tidying things up!  
  
As usual, thank you everyone for your reviews! I love getting reviews. Oh, and I hope you all liked Sierra, because she is going to come back later on. Has any one (excluding Lady Laughing Owl) figured out her little secret yet?  
  
*****  
  
"What shall we do?" asked Estel, looking to Elladan. In his mind, a plan was shaping itself, but he decided against sharing it. After all, he was the little edan boy again, what was his word worth? But Elladan returned the question to Estel, saying, "I see your mind working, little one. Share with us what you have conceived."  
  
"Actually, I was only wondering if the Elves seemed intent upon luring the Men to the battlefield, or trusted their skills to kill whilst the Men remained upon their Walls," voiced Estel.  
  
"They have with them swords," Legolas said, "so I would assume they mean to lure the Men to the battlefield."  
  
"Then we go with the Elves. We could easily find a place among them--the healer's wagons that follow after, perhaps--to hide, then when they reach the city we could go in as the Men spill out. It sounds as though the Men would note us, but I doubt they would--not if we timed things properly."  
  
"They will be looking for Elves to kill, Estel, would you send us like lambs to the slaughter?" Legolas asked, shaking his head. "I do not think this is a wise plan."  
  
"No, you must listen! We will slip in as they close their doors, not a moment earlier. Here is there folly, Legolas, and our great fortune: so built is their city that the doors face to the West! Deep will be the shadows of sunset upon the field, and the moon, if I rightly predict, will be neither harvest nor blue, but a mere sliver. We can do this," Estel said assuredly. He half-expected a protestation, a suggestion, even, that they should return to Imladris. But Elladan only glanced at Legolas, and Legolas glanced back, and inclined his head the slightest bit.  
  
"Wake the others. Hurry!" Elladan told Estel. "Your plan is a risk to us all, but we will try it. Go and wake the others, please, Estel."  
  
With a nod Estel strode across the camp and shook Elrohir to wakefulness. His brother gazed upon him as if with new eyes, then, as Estel motioned for him to do, went over to Elladan and Legolas. Next Estel knelt beside Lysander. "Lysander! Lysander, wake up!" Estel hissed, shaking the Elfling. Lysander's eyes lost their glaze of sleep, and he looked right into Estel's, questioning. "Shh, go over and sit with my brothers and Legolas." Lysander nodded mutely, and moved to follow directions. That left only Elemmiire.  
  
Suddenly a bird flew over the camp, crying loudly. Its cry stilled the company, their blood pulsating with fear. Had they been seen? Had some one sent that bird to watch over them? Elemmiire shot upright and opened his mouth--Estel at once clamped a hand over it to keep him quiet. When at last the bird plunged headlong into the trees and was silent, they dared breathe again, but not move, only eyes darting fearfully to meet those of the others. At last Estel stood, and helped Elemmiire to his feet, and together in silence the two returned to the opposite end of the camp and knelt beside the others.  
  
Elladan explained the plan shortly to Elrohir, Lysander, and Elemmiire, then said, "I ask that you, Lysander, and you, Elemmiire, remain here, in this camp. Keep to the treetops to be certain. We will come back for you, but for now, you must remain safe. Will you do this?"  
  
"We will," Elemmiire said.  
  
"Good, Elemmiire, thank you. Lysander?"  
  
Lysander looked torn. His eyes shot to Estel, then back to Elladan, then to the ground, where they remained. "So many times," he spoke slowly and quietly, "I stood by and let things happen. So many times I refused to act, to help you, Estel. It seems wrong to me, as it did then. I cannot do this again." He shook his head. "I wish to go with you, Estel."  
  
"Elladan, you know as well as I that we have not the time for this!" Legolas hissed.  
  
"I know, but let us allow the boy to sort this out for himself," Elladan returned cautiously.  
  
"Tell me you do not hear the sounds of the troop, moving in the distance," Legolas demanded. Elladan pricked his ears to the wind to listen.  
  
"Lysander, no, you must remain here, where you are safe," Estel replied. "Listen to me: there is a chance that Elladan, Elrohir, Legolas, or myself will be injured in the process of recovering the others. We need you two, at least you two, to remain in good health. Someone must remain safe."  
  
"Then I insist that that someone be you," Lysander returned. "You stay; I shall take your place. Any good warrior would die for his leader."  
  
"Lysander, no! You will not die; no one has to die tonight. You say you would die for your leader? At this moment that means me, and that you would die for me. If this is so, I command you to remain here, safe," Estel insisted, "and cease this hindrance."  
  
Lysander did not reply. In deed, he began to, but his mouth fell open and he gaped for a moment, motioning with his hands. The others turned to see what it was he looked so awfully upon. Between two trees in the border of their small camp stood an Elf, tall and serious, his face grave. His raiment was red over his armor of metal, and from his helmeted head shot a red plume of notable height and width. Behind this personage stood three others of similar raiment, with ridiculous feathers protruding from their helmets, also. They wielded bows strung with strong arrows tipped with folded steel and with the feathers of eagles upon their butt ends, but wore quivers across their backs and swords upon their belts. Upon the company from Imladris they looked disdainfully.  
  
"Well, well, well," said the leader of the small band of arrivals, fixing his eyes first upon one member and then upon the next, and added in a voice that suggested far more than the words he spoke, "what have we here?" 


	13. Pellatal

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any recognizable characters and/or places thereof  
  
Author's note: at some points they mention speaking Elvish, but as I do not know enough Elvish to write out their conversations, and most of you probably don't know enough to read them, I will write in English. Also, once again, this story is not slash fiction at all, and if anything in it seems to be that is either friendship or brotherhood. I hope this is completely understood. Third and final note, the Elves act in a manner which I myself dislike, it is just mob psychology and ignorance that stem their actions.  
  
Jack Sparrow: Hey, guess what! I saw Pirates of the Caribbean for the fifth time today! (I think that's pretty cool) I'm really glad you like the story, but don't know quite what you mean about the Elves.  
  
Lady Laughing Owl: Yes, it was a typo. I like Lysander, too, and am glad I have not too much spoiled the ending for you. I won't say how, but your review tells me that even you are unaware of all the twists of my plot--of course, nor am I. . .and, hey, I remember all kinds of things! "How now spirit, whither wander you?" And then later Steve shouting "Yeah, stand up!" Do you remember that?  
  
Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I love hearing from you!  
  
*****  
  
The leader of the red-plumed Elves addressed Elladan in Elvish; "It has been a goodly while, Elladan son of Elrond."  
  
Elladan winced and bowed his head, showing proper, if untrue, respect for the other Elf. "Pellatal," he acknowledged.  
  
A few stars twinkled overhead in the otherwise inky black oblivion. Estel blinked at them. The night air was cold, and he felt himself shivering. Legolas, beside him, looked at him oddly. "What is it?" asked the Elf in a whisper. "Are you afraid of something?"  
  
"No," Estel replied, wishing he could rub his arms as gooseflesh rose. He fought to keep his teeth from chattering.  
  
"Then what is it?" Legolas asked.  
  
"I am very cold," Estel said. While they were not under any hostage terms quite yet, the small band from Imladris had certainly become captives. A number of Elves with red plumes had stepped out from the trees surrounding them. It would have been foolish to fight them, and so the Imladris Elves had allowed their hands to be tied and had allowed themselves to be pushed out into the open and taken as prisoners to the main of the Elven community. Elladan now stood with the red-plumed leader, speaking urgently, while the others were surrounded by Elves with drawn bows.  
  
Legolas moved closer to Estel, unsure of what else to do. "What are you two doing?" one of the guards barked at them.  
  
"If you please," Estel stammered, "I am cold."  
  
"Cold?" the guard called out to his friend nearby, who came over. "He says he is cold," said the first guard, and the two laughed. "What sort of Elf," he teased, approaching Estel with a dangerous look to him, "feels the effects of the cold?"  
  
"None," Estel replied, not in any defiant tone, but simply stating a fact.  
  
"No Elf," replied the guard, "precisely. So you may stop pretending that you are cold. Conspiracy will not be tolerated, boy."  
  
"Please, I am no Elf," Estel explained. "I am a member of this party, but of the edain." At this proclamation the Elven guard turned and strode over to Estel. He looked the boy up and down curiously, and Estel averted his eyes, knowing well enough what might be taken as a sign of rebellion. He felt a rough hand jerk his hair back, and heard a muttered swear.  
  
"Pellatal," said the guard, grasping Estel by the shoulder. The boy winced, and as the guard led him away, Elrohir moved. "Move aside," the guard commanded, but Elrohir stood his ground.  
  
"Leave him alone, he means you no harm," Elrohir protested. "He is one of us."  
  
"Understand, son of Elrond, that we are at war with those mortals in that city, that they have slaughtered enough among us that we realize they will not stop. This boy--"  
  
"Cannot help the manner in which he was born. He is a resident of Imladris, and if you harm him in any way, Lord Elrond will not be pleased," Elrohir returned. "Do you truly think you need another such enemy?" His eyes gleamed smartly, and Estel was almost frightened. The guard's grip tightened, his nails biting into the boy's flesh. Then, with unnecessary roughness, the guard shoved Estel away, with such force that the boy stumbled and fell backwards to the ground.  
  
Estel did not much mind the hurt of the impact, but with his hands tied behind his back it was difficult for him to get to his feet. He floundered helplessly for a few moments, and the red-plumed guards laughed at him. Estel was more than used to such abuse, and knew to ignore it, but tears were welling in Elrohir's eyes. "Elrohir, please, do not," Estel hardly whispered. Despite his brother's tears Estel worked, trying hard to stand again. Amid the snickering of the red-plumed guards he stumbled to his knees, then managed to stand.  
  
The red-plumed guard advanced on the boy, but was again stopped. "This is sick," Legolas voiced from where he stood, off to the side of the guard. He had, prince realized, come to think of this boy as an equal, although he started out thinking of him as a lesser simply for his race. "Elves, seeking their laughter in the torment of a child. Only he among us may hold his head high, that he is naught to do with you! Leave him be."  
  
"Or else what?" sneered the guard, but he was clearly taken aback.  
  
"Or else the forces of Mirkwood and Rivendell combined will be having a word with you," Legolas replied. "Leave him be." The guard looked around, and he kept on his face a sneer, but he returned to the perimeter circle with the other guards.  
  
Estel was torn. Never before had any one stood up for him, and his head swam with the gratitude he felt towards Legolas and his brother. Estel also felt that he was being treated like a child, which he was rather not. However, he allowed the gratitude to rule him, and gave a nod of thanks to Legolas and Elrohir before standing again beside his friend. Elrohir moved beside him. Before any words could be exchanged, Elladan and Pellatal returned.  
  
"We must move on," Pellatal said, "and despite what your negotiator claims, you will not be set free. You will come with us to the battle, and we will leave you tied to our transports for the injured. At any sign of trouble, we will not hesitate to kill you." With a motion from Pellatal the guards moved forward, taking each one Rivendell captive and tying his him as instructed. Estel found himself beside Elladan, and he asked confidentially, "What did you tell him?"  
  
Elladan bent forward and kissed his brother's brow. "What ever happens this night, I want you to know I love you."  
  
*****  
  
TBC 


	14. Elemmiire

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof  
  
Author's Note: The events in this chapter. . .I don't know how they came to be. It just sort of happened. On Tuesday I'm leaving for a vacation for a week, so I will try to post at least one more chapter before then.  
  
Arayelle Lynn: Foul beast! Just kidding. All right, I can wait until the end for feedback. *waits. . .twiddles thumbs. . .whistles. . .*  
  
Gwyn: Having stories move fast is one of my worst habits. If you could help me correct that, or point me in the right direction, I really would appreciate it.  
  
Maranwe: I should hope that nothing is a given in my story. It makes it so much more exciting. Like I said, when I write before school the chapters tend to be a little shorter. This one's longer, though!  
  
Littlesaiyangirl: I can honestly say that I do not know, but am sure that your vivid imagination can conjure up some image.  
  
Leggylover03: Elrond. . .will be one pissed off Elf-lord, if he ever finds out about the treatment of his sons. Will he find out? Read and learn, mwu haha!  
  
Thanks everyone I love hearing from you!  
  
****  
  
Elladan's words haunted Estel, but he did not ask about them. He was too busy thinking, trying to find a solution. How were they going to get out of this situation? It did not seem an easy task. All the Elves from Imladris, plus Estel, had their hands bound and tied to the sides of an open wagon. On the brighter side, they were sitting inside the wagon and did not need to walk to keep up, as this would have been extremely awkward. Estel could hardly believe that there were only six of them left. His heart sank. It was his fault, wasn't it? After all, he had assumed command. He should have insisted that Legolas lead them, he should have insisted--  
  
The boy was jostled out of his thoughts as the wagon came to sudden halt. There was silence for what seemed to be an eternity, and then the sound of hundreds of bowstrings twanging as a volley of arrows was fired upon the Elves. There were shouts from all directions and even the barks of dogs, and everything was a flurry of activity. "Are you just going to leave us here, tied up like this?" Elemmiire shouted. No one answered, but the reply was clear. Yes, they would be left tied to the wagon, sitting ducks. They were as good as dead.  
  
Just as Estel could feel himself begin to cry, thinking of his Ada and his brothers and Sierra, and every one he would not see again whom he had ever felt akin to, when the doors of the city of Men creaked open, and their pathetic army poured onto the field. "We are done for now," Estel moaned, but Elladan's eyes shone as he looked upon the new arrivals.  
  
"I do not think so, Estel," Elladan replied. "It is not your time, not yet, little brother. Don't you dare lose hope, you hear?" And with that he opened his eyes and gazed outward, as a Man swung his blade down in a dangerous arc towards Elladan. Before his stroke came near to falling there was a thump, and he stopped. He fell forward, a gash in the back of his head as deep as Estel's hand was long. Behind him Estel saw the guard who had earlier pushed him to the ground. The edan's mouth flopped open, but before he could say anything the guard had moved on, and Elladan was groaning.  
  
"What is it, what's wrong?" Estel asked, turning worriedly to his brother.  
  
"Nothing," Elladan replied. He was trying to pull the ropes apart; they had been damaged when the dead Man fell. Estel's eyes widened. Elladan was bleeding from a gash in the wrist.  
  
"You are bleeding!"  
  
"It is nothing," Elladan repeated, trying hard to break the ropes. Estel did not distract his brother's attention any more, and was looking for some break in his own bindings when he felt something wet on the outer side of his thigh. Turning, he saw the dead Man's hand at an odd angle; his knife had punctured Estel's flesh. Taking advantage, with a few awkward movements Estel negotiated the knife and worked himself free. He clamped his hands over the dead Man's and pulled the knife free.  
  
"Elladan, here!" With swift movements Estel freed his eldest brother, then clasped the knife in Elladan's hands. "Free the others, then head for the forest. You should be safest there. Go!"  
  
"What about you?" Elladan asked.  
  
"I will meet you in the forest," Estel replied, and at once was gone. Elladan looked after his brother, but in the mayhem could not see him. Men and Elves were dying. The air was metallic with the smell of blood and thick with roars of battle. Estel was no where to be seen. "Good lad," Elladan muttered, before leaping from the wagon and racing round to the others.  
  
Estel bent at the waist to keep from being seen, ducking behind wagons and trying as best he could not to be caught up in the battle. Suddenly all at once Estel was at the nose of the last wagon. He had a clear view of the gate, not yet closed, and if he peeked out he had a view of the surround area, where Men and Elves clashed blades. There were many bodies of dogs lying around and a few fighting, but Estel forced himself not to look. There could not possibly have been more than three hundreds of people on the field, he realized. How many would there be come morning?  
  
There was no time to wonder; Estel needed to be somewhere. With a quick look either side of him he dashed forward, keeping his eyes on the target. The gate kept getting closer, it was not closing but remaining open just a crack, coming closer--"Retreating already, are we?" demanded a harsh voice, and Estel felt someone grip the neck of his tunic. He looked up to see the face of a dangerous-looking Man, with yellowing teeth, foul-smelling breath and the most frighteningly cold eyes Estel had ever seen. "Deserters are not looked kindly upon--"  
  
Before Estel could reply another voice cut in, "I would not be doing that if I were you." Lysander cut the Man's throat with the same knife Elladan had used to free them all, and the Man was dead in an instant. For a moment Estel faltered, and he froze, and stood staring, the stench of death and blooding filling him and making him ill.  
  
"Not now, come on!" Elrohir prodded, and Estel fled through the gate. Five Elves followed after him. He slipped into the shadows beneath a support beam, checking the darkened streets for any possible threat. For the first time that night, Estel's hand went to his belt, forgetting that his weapons were gone. He took a deep breath and said a prayer, then slipped into the lighter shadows where he could more easily drift along. Again, the five others tailed him. Estel paused and turned to them. "I told you go to the trees where you will be safe. We are unarmed save for one knife in a hostile city. You have chosen to follow me and I allow this, but say now that any he who wishes may turn back and retreat to the trees and be thought not as a deserter."  
  
The only answer to this was a whisper from Lysander. "You are wasting time," he said. Estel grinned, and continued onwards.  
  
As they passed along more and more streets they grew bolder, finally walking out in the open, not minding that they were in plain view of anyone looking. There was no one to look. Elemmiire even told a weak joke, and the company giggled. There was a general silence, and everyone whispered to break it without disturbing it. When a gust of wind rose, the sound of a creaking door startled them. They froze and looked, but no one came. Estel took a step forward. Elrohir stopped him and gave him an inquisitive look. "I have to know," he said simply. Only Lysander followed him.  
  
"Hello?" asked Estel, pushing open the door a bit further. "Hello, is anybody here? We mean you no harm." He stepped into the house. It had a nice smell to it, something like apple pie baked by the most expert of bakers, the sort that knew just how much cinnamon to use and who left the skins on. But something foul lurked just beneath that, something extremely disgusting. Estel did not bother telling Lysander he could turn back. Lysander knew, and had chosen to continue onward. Turning to his left, Estel entered the kitchen. The first thing he saw proved that his sense of smell was quite accurate, for a pie sat on the stove. Then Estel heard a buzzing sound, and as if a part of him had already seen what would greet his eyes his heart pounded, and he turned--  
  
"By the Valar," Lysander muttered, then he fell to his knees and was ill. Estel held back his friend's hair and rubbed his back, not taking his eyes off the woman and her two small children huddling together in the corner. She had dark hair and so did her elder daughter, a girl of about six years, but the younger daughter, who might have been around three, had soft, white- blond hair. The woman's throat had been slit open and the children had bled from the wrists before, as if they were taking too long, their throats had also been cut. Flies were landing on them. Their eyes were wide open, staring into the room. Estel felt surprisingly numb as he tended Lysander but when they straightened and actually saw the bodies, his chest heaved with every breath, sweat formed on his brow and the hair on his neck prickled. More scared than he had ever been before, Estel took his friend by the hand and slowly backed out of the room.  
  
"What did you find?" Legolas asked.  
  
"Nothing," Estel replied with a glance at Lysander. "It was empty."  
  
*****  
  
To be continued 


	15. Lysander

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any recognizable characters and/or places thereof  
  
Author's note: To explain the jailhouse-giant thing, well, my sister is taking A.P. Spanish Lit, so she was reading Don Quixote and, well, for anyone who knows Don Quixote that's why. For anyone who needs an explanation just say and I'll post one next chapter. This chapter got rather bloodier than I had intended. Also, at one point Estel swears. I know it isn't very Middle-earth like, but given the circumstances. . .  
  
Leggylover03: I didn't say where Elrond was. He will come in, but I am not sure you will like the way he does. Hehe, and there is enough of a spoiler for one day, I think.  
  
Gwyn: He may be young, but circumstance forced him to grow up--too quickly, as you said. The dead bodies. . .yuck. I know. That part wrote itself. But Estel did hold well with that experience. Of course, it might go either way: he might become numb to violence or he might learn pity. Luckily I am the author and may choose for him.  
  
Maranwe: Estel is fourteen, just shy of fifteen. (appropriately, he is about ten months older than me)  
  
Thanks everyone for reviewing, and I do hope you enjoy this new chapter!  
  
*****  
  
They continued on in silence to the jail. It all felt so wrong. A dog ought to be barking, or some Man running at them with his sword drawn shouting curses, yet there was no noise, no threat. Lysander coughed to clear his throat and the sound seemed the loudest any of them had ever heard. Every time they passed by a house Estel shivered, wondering if the scene within was the same as the one in that house he had simply "had to know" about. Now he wished he had not followed that whim, for the fear of what might be was far less awful than the memory of what was.  
  
At long last the jail-building loomed before them. Estel had never seen it in daylight, and what he saw now was a giant more than ready to raise his feet and crush them. It seemed the others saw a similar apparition, for they stared open-mouthed until at last Elrohir regained control and said, "Come. We have not the time to tarry here. We can only hope our friends are being kept in this place, for if they are not--"  
  
"We will look here, then despair, Elrohir," said Elladan. It was, thus, he who led the group into the jailhouse. Having once run out of the jail with Sierra leading, he managed to find a way in on his own, descending the stairway to the lower level. Halfway down the stairs he stopped, and said, "Pass the knife this way, whoever has it, please." This was done, and once armed Elladan continued. At the foot of the stairs they entered a corridor, and as there was no other way to go the trotted along it, then another corridor, and so on, until Estel stopped. "What is it, Estel?"  
  
"She comes, too," he stated flatly, motioning towards the cell by which he had stopped. In it lay a clearly female being, lying on the floor, motionless save the telltale rise and fall of her chest. It took a moment for the others to recognize her, having had little contact with her. When they did, no one argued. Not only did they owe it to her; Estel was set too firmly to even try talking him out of it. Elladan only nodded.  
  
"We have to go on and find the others, and there is only one knife," Elladan said.  
  
"I know where the warden's office is," Estel said, suddenly recalling the glimpse he had caught when running out the first time. "I will find the key there and meet you in the forest."  
  
"Meet us outside the weapons cache," Elladan instructed, then nodded. "And take care of your yourself." The others went on, but Lysander, who stayed. Elladan muttered to Elrohir, keeping his voice low, "I have a bad feeling about this."  
  
"A bad feeling about leaving Estel on his own?" Elrohir asked.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You know that sooner or later this must be done." Elrohir spoke logically.  
  
"Nevertheless, I dislike it."  
  
Estel and Lysander ran down corridors and up the stairs, bursting into the warden's office. It was a small room with a paper-strewn desk and a set of cabinets against the wall and a broom in one corner. For a moment the two boys stood in the doorway, then at once they shot forward. "You look in the cabinets and I will look in the desk," said Estel, and Lysander did. They talked as they worked. "Why did you stay with me?" asked Estel, shuffling through the papers atop the desk before moving on to one of the drawers. Perhaps it was because he was so afraid to be caught that he talked, trying to calm his nerves, and perhaps it was simply because he had to know. Perhaps he knew what was ahead. But only perhaps.  
  
"I feel so terrible about how we treated you before," Lysander replied. "You are so amazing, Estel. You have such a concept of honour. . .morals. When the others would hurt you I stayed back, too concerned for their opinions of me. I was weak. This is what I do in apology: I stay by you."  
  
Estel could think of nothing to say. He had searched nearly the entire desk, all the drawers, too, by the time his throat unstuck. "You do not have to," he said.  
  
"Yes I do," replied Lysander. He finished the cabinets and knelt to look beneath them, and just then--  
  
"Now this is interesting."  
  
Estel whirled. It was the King, that presumptuous, arrogant creature whom Estel had cast from his mind. So dishonourable, that he would be in the city while his subjects died upon the field. Estel said so.  
  
The King chuckled. "Think before you act, boy. You are unarmed here while I have a sword--" indeed, he did "--and alone. If you value your life you will do as I say." At this Estel might have shriveled with fear, but his heart rose with hope. If Lysander had not been seen, he might be wise enough to run for help.  
  
"What do you want from me?" Estel asked, feigning submission.  
  
"Where are the others?" the King growled, and for the first time Estel saw that the King knew his people were defeated, and fought still. He would fight to the last Man: inevitably himself. And a part of Estel admired this, while he knew it for folly.  
  
"All together where the guilty roam free while the innocent hang from the gallows," Estel replied over-sweetly. Angrily the King shot forward and slammed Estel against the desk. Lysander ran then, and was nearly at the door when the King whirled and drew his sword threateningly. Estel felt terrible, for he knew why the King had found Lysander: his own eyes had wandered.  
  
"Do you think this wise, boy?" asked the King, as Lysander held up his fists. One hand held sword, while the other held down Estel, who began to scrabble for freedom, but stopped as the King laid pressure to his throat and cut of his air supply. Once Estel was still the King relaxed his grip, and Estel did not fight back.  
  
"Let him go," Lysander said.  
  
"You make demands of me, while you have no weapon?"  
  
Lysander reached his hand to the wall and felt along it, seeking and finding the broom. "This is enough for me. Let him go and we will spare your life." The king laughed again, then took a step back, allowing Estel to his feet, drew out a knife and threw it into Lysander's wrist. As he did so Lysander threw the broom to Estel, who caught it, and when the knife stuck Lysander drew it forth and staggered, attempted to stab the King then fell to his knees against the wall. The King had the mercy to end his suffering, or perhaps it was rage, for before he struck to kill the Elfling with his sword, Lysander said, "Kill him for me, Estel. Never give up." Then his eyes glazed, and Estel knew he was beyond pain and was glad.  
  
Then for a time the King and Estel faced each other, and something passed between them, though it could not be said what. At last Estel asked, "Well? Was it worth it? Your life for his?"  
  
"It was not worth the time it will take to clean the blood from my sword," said the King. Estel was so angry then that he passed from reason, attacking before the King could even think. Hours of staff training kicked in, Estel knocked the King to the floor. He was older than Estel, but had not fought in many years, and was weakening. As Estel stood over him, he moaned in pain. "Say it was worth it," Estel whispered.  
  
"Never."  
  
"Say it!" Estel shouted, slamming the broom repeatedly into the King's chest with all of his might. "Say it was worth it! Say it was worth your life! Say it, you bastard, say it! Say it! Tell me his life was worth yours! Say he was worth the blood on your sword! Say it!" As he shouted this he felt the King's ribs crack, but he hardly noticed. He hardly noticed when the broom broke into the King's ribcage, and was no long hitting flesh, but a human heart.  
  
Estel stopped then, because someone said, "Estel, stop this!" and, when he did not, grabbed him and held him very tightly, whispering calming things to him. When at last Elladan released him, estel was in a daze. "Time to go," Elladan said. "Come on. We have the girl with us, and the others. Estel, please come."  
  
Estel scooped up the body of his departed friend, staggering under the weight, and followed his brother out into the night.  
  
*****  
  
To be continued 


	16. Elladan

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof.  
  
Author's note: With apologies, I know I've never updated often or written very long chapters, and it will get worse before it gets better. I've just started high school, and as I don't leave school until five-thirty most days, and have a riding lesson one of the days I leave at three-fifteen, updates will probably occur only on weekends for a while. I'm really sorry and hope you're not too mad about this. I am doing my best.  
  
Leggylover03: Heh heh heh. . .you'll see. . . (nope, no spoilers today)  
  
Gwyn: I'm quite glad you said that, actually, because if you recall in the earlier chapters Lysander was a real jerk and most of the readers hated him, but then he changed. . .and no one wanted him to die. That is one aspect of the story I worked hard to portray, thank you for noting it.  
  
Thanks those of you who reviewed! It's drawing to a close now. . .  
  
*****  
  
Estel ran behind his brother, struggling under the weight of the body but denying any offers of help. He did not cry, though his mind was awash in sadness, for he had things more important to worry about. For example, while their was a battle going on outside, why did he not hear the sounds of arrows cutting the air and sword blades meeting one another?  
  
The dark and thickened air smelled thick with blood, and the boy felt his stomach churning. Although the sounds of death and battle had gone mute, proof of them still remained. Yet some symptoms went unnoticed, save in that he noticed that he did not notice them: the silent streets and empty houses. Where were all the children and women? Were they dead, like those in the first house? Estel tried not to think about it.  
  
They had to pause before the gates of the city to catch their breath. "This is going to be the most difficult segment of our journey," said Elladan. Though he meant the journey of that night, Estel found himself wondering if indeed it was. Was not what had happened already cruel enough? Then he realized: the others had not been inside the house, had not crept along the sewer system with Sierra, had not been shoved about by the Elven guards, had not seen a friend's death and had not avenged it. They were the children now, he realized, and, not believing anything would change, when they returned to Imladris his life would be all the worse for that excursion. "So let us go forth and have it done with. Put your best efforts towards stealth and speed." Then he pushed the gate open just a tiny space, straining with the effort, and motioning for Elrohir to lead them out: he would stay until last.  
  
Estel no longer worried for courage. Did it matter if he lived or died? What was there left to live for? And so without fear, and without courage, he went forth, behind Elrohir, onto the field that might prove answer to some of his questions. He almost expected the air to change as he left the city, but it did not, save becoming brighter with the absence of shadow and heavier laden with the smell of blood.  
  
Where was the fighting? It was not upon the field. Men and Elves stood facing one another, looking ashamed or angry but not fighting. Their weaponry had been laid aside now. They listened as chastised children to one upon horseback, who held aloft a torch for light as he spoke. His horse was white and his raiment of silver and blue, and the firelight reflected off his proud face and blonde hair, making him seem silver all over. Behind him were many mounted fighters, and they were Elves, and this was why the battle had stopped, for the Elf with the torch preached peace.  
  
Elrohir had stopped running, and Estel staggered to a halt beside him, wondering why his brother looked so happily upon these new arrivals. Then he knew the rider, for he knew the horse upon which he was mounted, and a smile might have spread across the face of the mortal, also, had he been afraid as his brother had. The true mortality of his Elven brothers, all their weakness despite their strength, was suddenly clear to Estel. Not all Elves were perfect, he realized. In a way all his hope was gone, and in a way he did not care.  
  
Beside him, no one noticed the change in his countenance brought by this knew knowledge, and he was glad. The others had clustered around now, remaining hidden in the shadows while watching the glowing white rider as he spoke in a booming yet collected voice. There was a general will to surge forward, but Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas held the younger ones back. ". . .at one time, when Men and Elves could live together. Some still can. If you are unwilling to even attempt a peace, then you will destroy yourselves. Look how your cities burn." At this Estel turned and saw that, behind him, the city of Men was indeed afire. He had not noticed it before. Again turning, he saw a similar light in the distance: the Elves, also, were losing their homes.  
  
There was a whimper of fear from someone near Estel. "The tar will melt before the wood catches fire," said Legolas, motioning towards the layer of tar painted upon the walls. Nevertheless, the group made ready to run.  
  
"Build out of the ashes of destruction what you failed to create in times of peace. Renew the essential goodness of your societies, but not alone. There is no need for you to consume yourselves with your petty hates. Now is the time when we must come together and strengthen the fabrics of our societies. Perhaps in all your years of destruction you have forgotten the arts of creation; we are here to rekindle that knowledge within you. But first we must take back something precious to us. We followed the tracks of a number of Elves to this place, where we found this mayhem. Where now are they? Where are the sons of Lord Elrond and the children of all Imladris now?"  
  
The Men looked to the Elves and the Elves looked to the Men, and all could see trouble brewing when Elladan went slowly forward, increasing his speed as he crossed the field. "Glorfindel!" He cried. "Lord Glorfindel, we are here. Though. . .our number is lessen, of late." Then Glorfindel came down from his horse and embraced Elladan, and then released him and looked upon the others and said, "I think it is time you all saw home again."  
  
*****  
  
To be continued 


	17. Elothar

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof.  
  
Author's note: If this chapter gets a bit crazy. . .well, it's being written during commercial breaks for 'A Perfect Murder', so that might explain anything strange.  
  
Lady Kat: The reason he grows up fast is that this story is one in a series and I knew that unless I created some incredible circumstance, Estel would just have to either remain a child for many years or grow up overnight. This way, circumstance forces him into maturity and it is, in many ways, more believable. He's spent the last week or so running off adrenaline. Also, mostly (in my experience) if someone is tired but does not sleep, they will find a second wind, and a third, and so on. But eventually they-- and Estel--must crash down. That starts in this chapter. But when was he weak? As for Legolas and the twins, I'm not exactly sure what you mean by that: I know generally, but not specifically. "Young" is as bad a euphemism as any; my writing is childish and you may as well say it bluntly. However, Estel is NOT me and that is unfair to say. He and I are similar in age, so as to understand the mind-frame, but other than that we are completely different. Earlier I addressed the topic of "young" writing, this I am aware of. Congratulations. You've caught me out. You are the first. It's about time! I know my writing has flaws. I am incapable of making things happen. "Take more time to flesh out and explain the scenes." Which is all well and good to say, but would you tell me HOW? I've been begging friends to and they keep telling me my writing's great, which of course it's not. Yes, I have a beta, but she's almost never online so I don't send her most of my stuff. Surely there cannot be so many spelling and grammar errors? "With a few more years of life experiences under your belt to flavour your writing, your work will really be of top quality." Kat, dear, if it's experience that improves my writing I would stay mediocre all my life. Anyway, I do hope you'll stick around because you're actually trying to help me improve my writing, and no one else will. Thanks!  
  
Gwyn: did I mention the sequel? Hm. The sequel has Legolas, however there are a few stories before this one that I am going to write before the sequel (hey, maybe you'll like those) and they are Estel-centric stories without Legolas.  
  
Maranwe: Yes, it is.  
  
Leggylover03: One incensed Elf-lord, coming up.  
  
Thanks to everyone for reviewing, I love hearing from you! (oh, funny thing, my computer spell-checker wanted to change 'Noldo' to 'Noodle'. I found that amusing and so elected to share it.)  
  
*****  
  
It was a peaceful sort of confusion that followed then. Armies of Men and Elves stood about on a field of short, brown grass as the sun began to rise. They did not know what to do. Under the command of an Elf by the name of Palanfin of Imladris, those who had dwelt in what was once Eregion, along with a number of Elves of Imladris, gathered the bodies of dead. There were many years of work ahead of them, but none complained. One Man broke down and sobbed that he had believed the Men were lost, and had done something terrible because of it, but he neglected to say what. His name was Roín.  
  
The cities had indeed burned to little more than shells. Some frames of houses remained, some stone buildings and half-melted pieces of metal that were once possessions. At the northern end of the field was a line of trees, mostly pines and oaks. A number of Elves, most of them not yet fully grown, a similar number of horses and one Man were clustered near the trees. As the sun rose the air adopted a smell one might call only sorrow, and many wept, but none among this group tarried. Most were too stunned to do very much, but stood about, shaking or leaning upon each other or watching with eyes unseeing. One stood with the body of his friend in his arms, and he did not weep. Four, adults among them, were actively preparing to leave, checking the hooves and bridles of the horses and arranging pairs to ride together. At last they were ready to leave, and so the adults found themselves awakening the youths from their trances and helping them onto horses.  
  
As he felt the body of Lysander taken from his arms, Estel's energy drained out of him. His knees buckled under him, and the adrenaline that had kept him moving for the past few days was spent. Elladan caught him as he fell, and placed him on the horse before him. There were no saddles. Sierra looked about worriedly, and moved nearer to Estel. "Estel, I do not know how to ride," she said, looking to him for instruction. Estel could hardly keep his eyes open.  
  
"Glorfindel!" Elladan called. The Noldo turned and looked to the elder twin, who asked, "You are the best rider here. Ride with her; she does not know how."  
  
Glorfindel had been mounting Asfaloth when Elladan called to him. He looked upon the girl, and the mortal boy slumping forward before Elladan, and he walked over to them. "Come," he said to Sierra, laying a hand on her shoulder. "Will you ride with me? It will be a long journey to Imladris on foot." She looked fearful, but bit her lip and nodded her head yes.  
  
"Lysander?" Estel asked weakly. "Where is Lysander?"  
  
Elladan grasped the horse's reins, and so his arms were not free and were around Estel, and at the mortal's words Elladan awkwardly hugged him and rested his head against Estel's shoulder for a moment. "We would not leave him behind," Elladan promised. "Now shh, go to sleep, Estel. You could use the rest." And Estel did so, and for this reason he did not know what went on for the next half-hour until the small convoy began to move. He did not count the number returning and did not compare it to the number that had left. The group left at a trot, and the up-down motions did not bother Estel in the least. He slept like the dead.  
  
*****  
  
When next he woke, the first thing Estel knew was the jaunty motion beneath him. He groaned and opened his eyes. Elladan was behind him, a horse beneath him, and his comrades around him. All was well and he was safe: so why did he feel as though a hole had been bored into his heart? "Elladan," Estel muttered, "I'm hungry."  
  
Elladan laughed at this. "I should think so, little one! You have been asleep for over a day. You slept through many hours of hard galloping upon this horse. Do not worry for your stomach; we will stop soon and then you may eat."  
  
"When?" Estel asked, for he realized now that he was sore from so many hours of riding.  
  
After looking upon the sun, Elladan replied, "Within the hour." True to his word, Glorfindel soon called a halt to the group. Without a word they dismounted and tended their horses. Only when this had been completed did they speak, each claiming or assigning some job with relevance to making camp and making supper. When this was complete Elladan and Estel went off to collect wood for a fire.  
  
"Elladan," said Estel, kneeling and plucking up a large stick. They were close enough that they could see the camp through the trees. A carpet of leaves littered the ground, though it was spring and not autumn, when leaves are prone to fall. The camp was a small place not large enough to constitute a clearing, simply a space where there were no trees for a bit and so bedrolls might be set out and a fire kept. "Am I correct in. . .in my assumption that there is some history. . .between you and Pellatal?"  
  
"Aye."  
  
"And. . .and certain others?"  
  
Elladan paused and straightened up slowly. He brushed the dirt from the fallen piece of branch in his hands, staring intensely at his little brother, then gave a dismissive and reluctant, "Aye." He broke eye contact and returned to his work.  
  
"And surely you will be telling this to Ada?" Estel pressed.  
  
"No," Elladan said.  
  
"He must know!" the boy cried, unable to believe that Elladan would retain such information. "You must, Elladan, you must tell Ada. He deserves to know, and. . .and you must tell Sierra, also. It is unfair not to do so. It would not be right to--"  
  
Elladan turned to Estel so suddenly that the mortal lost his breath. The Elf threw the load of wood in his arms to the ground, and said angrily, "Let it be, Estel. This matter does not concern you." After a moment he bent to gather up the wood he had dropped.  
  
A month prior, Estel might have--and likely would have--accepted this and allowed the matter to smolder within his mind. But he had seen things now; he had seen one of his best friends murdered and one of his worst enemies repent. He knew now what it meant to care when another suffered, more so than the day he found Elladan crying in the forest, the day when he been so shocked that he had frozen. Estel had been eleven years old. . .and the memory had not yet stopped haunting him. Because of it, and because now he cared more strongly for those around him, Estel said, "Tell her or I will, Elladan."  
  
They gathered their wood in silence, and so returned to the camp. Elladan knelt by the circle that had been cleared of leaves and lined with stones. He organized the branches and struck a fire with a stone of flint. Estel sat on the ground disappointed with himself, for he knew that he would not tell Sierra, if Elladan did not. He did not notice when Elrohir sat beside him, nor when Legolas sat on his other side. Someone passed him a bowl of food and he ate it without knowing exactly what it was and without caring.  
  
He felt no emotion until later that night, when the sun had set and light came only from the fire. As Estel was lying beneath his blanket trying to sleep, he felt a small hand on his shoulder. "Estel. . .did you know that I. . .did you know that my name is Eltohar?" said Sierra. "Thank you." When he looked up, she was gone. Estel cried himself to sleep.  
  
*****  
  
To be continued  
  
All right, so, the next chapter will likely be quite short, and (if all goes to plan) there will be two more after that. Reviews are nice, flames are not! 


	18. Oswald

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any recognizable characters and/or places thereof  
  
Author's Note: Estel's memories are taken from 'Tearful at the Falling of a Star'. I'm not sure how this chapter happened. It just did. Sorry updates have been so rare. I've just started Secondary School and it's crazy. . .  
  
Leggylover03: In this chapter, but not angry. This story may not leave you feeling very warm.  
  
Daw the Minstrel: Sometimes children see things much clearer than adults, for their minds are simpler and less clouded by life.  
  
Gwyn: No Legolas here, either, but in the next chapter. I'm going to write an entire story about him, there's a summary of it in my bio if you're interested.  
  
Littlesaiyangirl: Thanks. You know, it's comments like that which really make my day a lot brighter.  
  
Lady Laughing Owl: If you're going to be so picky, you may as well beta for me! Oh, wait, you were supposed to, but I stopped sending stuff. It's the only way to get a decent response out of you, anyway. I've no idea if Pellatal means anything in Elvish, I got it off a name generator. How could you eat the pie in the presence of the corpse of the woman responsible for baking it? Ewwww. . .Well, I had to save some plot twist for the end. Lysander was my Jean Valjean, if you will. You hate him at first, he repents and you love him. I am yet to learn Valjean's final fate, but for Lysander, none else would do. Considering the last political speech I heard (Arnold. . .) that may be a bad thing. Haha. If he gets elected I will force my dad to switch my full citizenship to British, not this half-and- half. You make the strangest connections with the text: "sleepy, like me". . .anyway, great hearing from you, nice to know you still have space for the old IHP-ers in your busy secondary school life. . .haha, I'm not funny. I'm going to stop babbling now.  
  
*****  
  
"They are here! They have come back!" A young, lilting voice rang through all of Imladris. "They are here, every one!" Oswald had been waiting atop a balcony, his chin resting on the rail, when he saw a line of horses begin their descent into the valley. His attention perked. Could it be them? He squinted for a better look. It was, it was truly them! His blue eyes lit with excitement, blonde braids flying as he dashed through up and down corridors, telling everyone he encountered of his vision. "They are here, they are home again!" he cried joyously. "My brother has come home!"  
  
*****  
  
Estel allowed his weary mind to wander. The slow rhythm of the horse walking beneath him and the feeling of Elrohir mounted behind him filled his head, for it was simpler to feel, to know and accept current circumstance, than to think on it and be forced to admit and to decide. Mustering all his energy Estel lolled his head to one side, meeting the now sideways gaze of Legolas, the reins of a bay mare clutched loosely in his hands, who nodded at him. Rearrangements had been made many times, and now Legolas rode alone. Elladan rode with Elothar, and had hardly allowed her out of his sight since that night. Glorfindel had decided the rest; Estel had not cared to know of any of it. He no longer had the energy to care. Legolas directed his horse closer to Elrohir and Estel.  
  
"It is all over now," said Legolas, lying a hand on Estel's arm. Was it truly over? Had the torture and torment ended now? It seemed so, the death left behind and the struggle finished, yet Estel's mind was not at peace. Much had happened that he could not begin to comprehend. Someday, Elrohir had said, he would understand. Estel did not want to wait for that 'some day'. It seemed all too unfair that he must wait, uncomprehending. "You are home."  
  
Suddenly they rode between two great oaks, whose mingling branches had formed a shield through which only light, not vision, might pass, and as the branches fell into place behind them the sunlight struck them, and truly they were home. It seemed all of Imladris had come to greet them, to celebrate their arrival. How disappointed they must feel, thought Estel, to be greeted only with the sight of many dirty, disheveled, worse-for-wear boys. Surely they anticipated heroes. There was an awesome silence, broken only by the ripple of whispers, as the remaining horses and so-called heroes broke into the clearing and stopped, and it was as though a wall existed between the two groups as parents saw for the first time their sons as men and as sons saw for the first time their parents, siblings and dwelling-neighbors as sheltered, protected people. Shock fell over them as they realized for the first time that although they had been away, and in the span of only three weeks they had changed so that the people who left, that now strangers returned, and by some perverse twisting of nature the world of their childhood remained unchanged, as though their misadventures had been naught but dreams--but they had scars and wounds and hurts to prove reality, some still oozing blood, some only beginning to spread with infection. One boy turned to another and seemed to ask, "Is it for real?" but he dared not truly speak. Only was the silence broken when one of the wounded slipped from off his horse and fell to the ground with a thud. A trance seemed to pass from over them, as cricketsong in summer seems to lay a sticky heat over the world, and with a suddenly jolt one awakens to find that it is morning and the crickets no longer sing.  
  
Suddenly in a flurry of motion everyone was alert. Orders were shouted and carried out, the injured were helped to the Hall of Healing. Estel, uninjured, stood in a daze as the world slipped and slided around him. Colors seemed to mix together and every thing blended into one writhing mass of form and shade, pinks and greens and browns and grays and blues and white. . .There was such noise with all the shouting and worrying and ordering about that an oliphaunt might have gone unheard. Estel heard only the twitters of the birds in the trees and the thoughts of the butterfly, so clear to him as it flew through the crowd, seeming so out of place, bright yellow wings pulsing up and down, carrying the fragile form gracefully through the air. . .  
  
"Sir?" asked a small voice, and Estel felt a tug on his arm. His illusions suddenly whipped away from him. The butterfly was gone. The people were gone. Only this small child, innocent and vulnerable, remained. Estel looked at him, and something in his memory sparked. 'I heard that tadpoles turn into frogs. . .' The mortal knelt, placing one hand on either of the Elf-child's shoulders. Beneath the pliable soft-green fabric of his tunic, his shoulders were bony and harshly lined. His eyes reflected older days, days of happiness and ignorance, days of looking up to his brother with such pride as he ever knew. . .Estel swallowed as he felt a great twanging in his heart. 'Really? Then are -we- going to turn into frogs when we grow up?' "I am looking for my brother, sir. Every one was taller than I am, and I could not see. He is a great warrior, sir, with blonde hair and blue eyes, just like me, and one day I will be just like him."  
  
Estel felt himself shivering within, but stayed still on the outside. 'Have you been by this pool lately? There are tadpoles grown in it!' "Do you not know me, Oswald? I was your friend. . ." Estel could hardly believe that this fragile, naïve little boy had once been his closest friend, yet it was so. This was not because Estel looked down on the boy, but saw him as a different person than the boy who had told a terrible truth and watched the tadpoles in the river. "Lysander. . .fought bravely. He fought well. He was a most noble and worthy comrade. I am sorry."  
  
Oswald faltered. "W-what do you mean?" he asked warily.  
  
"Lysander--Oswald. . .he is not coming back. I am so sorry, child."  
  
"You are lying!" Oswald cried, his lip quivering as tears came to his eyes. "You are a stupid old liar!" He punched Estel as hard as he could, which was not hard by the mortal boy's standards, and ran away, trying hard not to sob. Estel watched him go, thinking that he ought to be following after the child. Why, he might be lost on his own. He might be hurt. It was not safe for him to run about like that.  
  
Estel turned and made his way to the Hall of Healing. He could not clearly see the faces of the people, and the atmosphere seemed to warp him completely. He did not care, but stood about. Why had he come here? Perhaps he meant to help tend the wounded. Perhaps he simply meant to follow. Perhaps he was only tired of leading, and meant again to follow.  
  
"Estel? Estel, are you all right?" Was it because he was a mortal or simply out of paternal love that Lord Elrond's voice held such worry? Estel almost laughed. He was all right. He was unscathed, for crying out loud! He, the mortal, was unscathed!  
  
"I am unhurt," he said.  
  
"Lord Elrond!" It was Glorfindel calling. "Lord Elrond, I am sorry. You are needed." He stopped five paces from the father and son.  
  
"Go," Estel urged. "I am unhurt." With one final, uncertain and reluctant glance and a slow nod, Elrond turned and went back to his work. Estel left the Hall of Healing. He walked without looking up, but his feet knew their way. When he reached his room he sighed, shutting the door behind him. He stripped off his tunic and allowed it to fall to the floor, similarly kicking off his trousers. His garments were too like his body: stifling, sweaty, and blood-stained. Estel fell onto his bed without a thought, drawing the quilt over him and falling into a deep sleep. He woke the next morning as the sunrise poured light into his window. With a groan he looked about and realized what had happened. He rose and drew the curtains angrily, then went back to sleep.  
  
*****  
  
To be continued (looks like two more chapters here, folks. . .making your reviews all the more appreciated!) 


	19. Writing to Estel

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or recognizable any characters and/or places thereof  
  
Author's note: My computer is acting up right now, but when it is working properly again I will put the letters in italics. Sorry for the inconvenience.  
  
Lady Laughing Owl: Hehe, remember the pole at Lili's party? Emily was so mad about that. . .He is actually still very much a child, as you will see in this chapter, especially from his jealousy and his thoughts toward himself.  
  
Gwyn: I took the name from 'King Lear'. Thanks for pointing out the tense problem, I've done my best to fix it. As for the Legolas story, I'm not sure what I'll be posting when, just that I will be posting and eventually.  
  
Endril McMerlyn: Thanks! I love hearing that: other people enjoying my work and it being original. Thanks for saying so, and I hope you enjoy this next chapter!  
  
Thanks to everyone for their reviews, I love hearing from you!  
  
*****Present date:  
  
When Estel had stopped crying, he pulled away from his friend and sat cross- legged, glaring defiantly. Legolas sighed, suspecting Estel's intention. The Elf said nothing, but took a letter from his pocket and handed it to Estel, who looked back at him in question. Legolas nodded towards the letter, and Estel unrolled it and began to read.  
  
My dear Estel,  
  
It has taken far too long for me to pause and think upon all that has recently become so clear to me, and only in doing so did I realize that you above all others, who has not asked, deserves to hear the full story. For this reason, I compose this message to you now. Hate me for it, but know the truth.  
  
Elothar is my child, this cannot be denied. It had been my intent to marry her mother: alas, this came undone. The Eregion situation.was not new to me. Many years ago, when the settlements were growing more aggressive, Elrohir and I sought to explore their motives and planned actions. Then it was that I met Elothar's mother, who lived at that time among Elves, and thought I loved her. I did love her. I stayed a year in Eregion. Pellatal was my best friend, Elothar's mother my love. I might have stayed my life in that place, had not the fighting come.  
  
One of the most successful raids of Men upon Elves occurred in the spring of that year. They took every Man from the city of Elves, Elothar's mother among them. She had come to be there as a captive, it is true, but was living pleasantly and happily among the Elves by that time. When I sought to see her again, I was turned away from the city of Men. Upon my return, defeated, to the Elven dwellings, Pellatal found me. He urged me join the Elves who planned a strike against the Men. I reminded him of Elothar's mother, and that I, too, was half-Man. Pellatal was strongly devoted to his people, and it is this that came between us. Not a day goes by I do not think of them.  
  
Now this fighting has become a part of your mind, also. Would I could take it away from you, Estel. Yet perhaps it is for the best. I am sorry that you have to hurt, little brother, but if you learn from this experience--allow it to shape you instead of destroying you--there will be nothing more valuable to you in later life. You will need this. Let experience nourish you. Remember that you have done much for many people. Thank you, and thank you for returning my child to me. Know that I love you, Estel. Know that we all love you. Yours, Elladan.  
  
Estel didn't know what to feel. Shock, pride, anger, and love welled within him, urging him in different directions at once. A part of him wanted to tear the letter to pieces, another to cry. "Fighting has become a part of your mind," Elladan had said. What did that mean? Did he condemn Estel to a life of destruction? And why had he not spoken before of the events of Eregion in previous years? Who knew about it? What of Elothar, where was she now? And the others, where were they? "Wh-where is my brother now?" asked Estel, anger at last winning. "Why, if he cares as he claims to, does he not come himself? What of my father? Why do they send you?"  
  
"Estel, you have been here for nearly a week, and in this time your brothers and your father have been tending the injured. Those harmed in the great battle, the night before we left Eregion, many of them have come here. They.there has hardly been a moment for rest since our party arrived in Imladris," Legolas replied.  
  
Estel understood, but selfishly wish his father had come to speak to him. Did he not care? "A letter. They sent me a letter," Estel said scornfully. "That is all I am to them?"  
  
"Actually," said Legolas, "many letters." He produced then an abundance of parchment, all written over in different scrawls. "Elrohir, Karnil, Wilwarindi, Muriel, Naarie, Elothar. They have all said, Estel, that they are grateful to you, and sorry. They wish things had turned out differently."  
  
"And Minyadur, Alkarinque, Elemmiire, and Luinil, I suppose, ask why I did not manage to get myself killed?" remarked Estel with a snide disrespect.  
  
"You cannot please everyone, Estel," replied Legolas, to which Estel gave a sarcastic smile. "You cannot. Minyadur and Alkarinque were not in Eregion; they cannot understand what transpired there. Elemmiire accepted your leadership and would have followed you to the end. When he wakes, I am sure he will wish to speak with you: since he fell from upon his mount, he has neither stirred nor spoken."  
  
"And Luinil?" Estel was unwilling to give up. "Does he send me a death- threat?"  
  
"Luinil never accepted you, Estel, either because of your race, because everyone else disrespected you, or simply because he was unsure of himself. He did not accept you, and now never will, for he is dead."  
  
Estel could not reply. He stared at Legolas for a moment, then took up one of the letters and began to read.  
  
Estel,  
  
There is so much I cannot say to you. You are so amazing Estel, so utterly good. You treated me like a person after I treated you like dirt. That will not happen any longer. I--(this had been crossed out) Please forgive--(this, too, had been crossed out) I will never forget how kind you were to me.  
  
-Muriel  
  
Hello, Estel! This is Naarie writing. I wanted to say thank you, because in many ways you saved my life, and also I am sorry for being unkind to you before. We never really gave you a chance to show it, but I think you are an awesome boy. It would be nice to know you better, and perhaps someday soon I will. Namaarie, Naarie (look, it rhymes!)  
  
Estel,  
  
Hey there, we have had no word of you. Are you all right? Yesterday Wilwarindi was drinking milk and he laughed at my song, and the milk came squirting through his nose. You would have laughed, I think. Come say hello to us some time, yes? I shall sing that song again and cause Wilwarindi to spit through his nose.  
-Karnil  
  
Estel,  
  
I sit here, parchment blank, pen in hand, with so much to say and such an inability to say it. Insufficient it seems to pen my emotions; some time we must speak in person, if this is all right with you.  
  
-Wilwarindi  
  
Estel stared at the pages in wonder. He understood, then, Muriel's reluctance to speak. She was forcing herself to face something she would rather deny. Naarie wished to make amends for the past; he had, it seemed, accepted what had happened, and dealt with this in his own manner. He had accepted Estel not as a boy he had known, but as a boy he did not know. And Karnil was denying what had happened. Who would not? Karnil had lost his brother, and would not likely be readily accepting of that. Wilwarindi simply spoke the truth. 'Will I speak with him?' wondered Estel. 'Yes,' he decided, because Wilwarindi had asked, and Estel, too, had much to say.  
  
Dear Estel,  
  
Oh, child. For so many reasons I am sorry you had to experience that. The world is cruel in many ways. Take comfort in the love of your family and the knowledge that you have made it through this trial. You have shown that you are capable of incredible physical feats. Now is the time to show yourself capable of incredible feats of emotion. Be strong, Estel. Don't give in to grief. Love-from, Elrohir.  
  
Estel set aside Elrohir's letter after reading it closely two times, then reread Elladan's. They both preached to him, and in essence told him the same: move on. What if he did not want to move on? He would dwell if he felt like dwelling. It was then that, upon meditating on this, Estel realized that he did not wish to dwell. He wished to move on, knowing that the events of the past few weeks would ever be with him. Setting this thought aside, he delicately lifted the final parchment. Eltohar.a part of him envied her, envied her for everything she had. He emphasized with her feeling of not belonging to anyone, yet she had found a family, and one of the best families Estel could imagine, the only family he ever wanted to be a part of.  
  
Estel,  
  
"Her writing is very neat," he observed. "I did not think she would be literate at all."  
  
"She is not," Legolas replied. "She dictated the letter and I wrote it for her. Glorfindel has expressed an interest in her education, claiming he is an old hand at the art of 'Educating the Peredhil'. I think he enjoys teaching you children, to be quite honest."  
  
"Mm," replied Estel. He had already returned to the letter.  
  
Estel,  
  
Oh, thank you Estel, thank you so much! It is so wonderful here in Imladris. It has been only a week, yet I am beginning to feel comfortable among the Elves. I am even learning their language. When I need to be on my own, no one minds my going down to the river for a while. I believe that you spoke truly, and the Elves are a peaceful people, although I am frightened a little of them. It is strange to think of myself as an Elf.  
  
It is an amazement to suddenly have a family, someone to love, who loves me. I have not yet grown accustom to using familiar names for people, but have been told that it is completely unnecessary for me to refer to Elladan, Elrohir, and Elrond as "Lord" as they are my family. Please do not feel I have taken something from you, Estel. I rather hope we might be as brother and sister, although you are my uncle, if anything. How very odd.  
  
I must go now, Estel, for I have a lesson in moments. Letters are so confusing, what shall become of me when I must write out whole words? Ah, well.Legolas says you are not feeling well. When you feel better, will you visit me? I hope so.  
  
Sincerely, Elothar  
  
Her name had been written in wobbling letters, as though she had been writing with great care, and from this Estel gathered that she had copied over Legolas's lightly penned letters. He wanted to cry, for never before had he felt as though Elothar was taking his place, but now he realized.who would have need or want for a stupid human when they could have an Elf, a flesh-and-blood relative in place of a fostered vagabond? No one would. He had been cast out, he realized; his family was now Elothar's. She had stolen much from him, and he felt a surge of anger.  
  
"If you are well enough," said Legolas cautiously, "Lord Elrond sends for you. Shall I tell him you will not be coming, quite yet?"  
  
"No," said Estel. "I will go now to him."  
  
"You might comb your hair, or wash up," Legolas suggested, looking Estel up and down. The boy looked disheveled, indeed he appeared the sort of vagrant most would turn away from their doors.  
  
"No," replied Estel. "He may take me as I." But this meant: 'He would not care. I am of no more purpose now.'  
  
*****  
  
To be continued (only one more chapter to go!) 


	20. Elrond

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or paces thereof  
  
Landorie: Update schedule? Er. . .I haven't got one. Mostly I post every time I write a new chapter. Thank you for requesting a story, it has helped me decide which to hurry up and get written! And thanks for your review, it was great hearing from you.  
  
Lady Laughing Owl: At least you only read it, unlike Vigo! Haha, I still can't believe. . .oh, this will be fun! Anyway, as I was saying! Thanks. You didn't understand the "pretty" joke, for which I am eternally thankful. Hehe.  
  
Thanks everyone for reviewing! Hope you like this last chapter!  
  
*****  
  
Estel ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed them on his trousers. An accidental glimpse of his reflection in a windowpane had alerted him to the absurdity of his looks: his eyes red and swollen from crying, his lips chapped and cracking (when had that happened?), hair falling in limp, greasy strands past his shoulder, his skin frighteningly pale, and all of it topped with Legolas's coordinating, clean choice of clothing. He considered laughing, but the sight was too terrible to be humorous. In the hopes of improving himself a bit--regretting his hasty decision but denying to turn back on it--Estel finger-combed his hair and ran his tongue over his lips. It was a feeling not unlike licking sandpaper.  
  
With a pounding heart Estel paused before Lord Elrond's study door. Estel squared his shoulders. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was almost afraid, and realizing this was suddenly very much afraid, for this was the moment in which his character, his future would be decided. Would he break and run to the comfort of his foster-father's arms, would he cry? Would he hold back on sorrow and report as any decent warrior who loves his leader ought? Who and where would this day take him? Estel had come to a crossroads in his life, and his greatest fear was facing it. Shaking his head Estel knocked impulsively on the study door--once, twice--then his bravery fled and it was all he could do not to run away.  
  
"Come in, Estel," Elrond called, and Estel reached for the doorknob. His hand shook and paused, then he darted forward and stepped into the room. It was the same study Estel could remember from the roots of his childhood, the same bookshelves with the same books, the same unlit hearth, the same desk and the same chairs and, by far the worst, the same Half-Elf sitting at that familiar desk. "Sit down," he offered, looking up to meet Estel's eyes. The boy did not cry, but for a moment he did freeze. It was not the same Peredhil, after all, for this person had the haggard appearance of one pushed beyond his limits and mad with worry. This did comfort Estel, for he saw then that Elrond had changed, if only in that he had never appeared so tired before. With the smallest of smiles Estel stepped forward and slid down into the proffered chair.  
  
"You sent for me," Estel said.  
  
"Indeed I did. While I realize this must be a painful topic to discuss, Estel, there are some things. . ." Elrond paused. He did not wish to continue, did not wish to inflict this pain on the mortal child he had come to know as his own son, but he knew that it was necessary. "You alone may fill in all the gaps in the story, and this I must ask you to do. Are you willing?" Estel's eyes, so cold now, colder and duller than ever Elrond had seen them, locked with the Peredhil's as the mortal nodded slowly. Elrond sought to ask him about Lysander's death, the manic period Legolas had reported, and the insides of the mysterious house, but could not tear his gaze from Estel's serious eyes. There was hurt in them, but a hidden, deep hurt, as well as an absence: Elrond had never known Estel's eyes to be without some glimmer or reflection of laughter. What had they done to him? "Lysander," Elrond managed to say at last. "What exactly happened to Lysander?"  
  
"A despot King of Men killed him when Lysander challenged him for my freedom," Estel replied. 'And I was glad,' he thought. 'I was perverse enough to be glad for my friend, who no longer needed to feel pain.' He spoke, "Then I killed that King. I stopped his heart and broke his ribs with the blunt end of a broom."  
  
Elrond nodded. He had heard Elladan's report of a blood-spattered boy fighting to mutilate a corpse with a maniacal rage in his eyes, a dead child's body slumped against the wall nearby. Had Estel simply reacted, or was there something deeper there, some reason Lysander's death--because it had been Lysander's--had spurned this violence? Elrond decided not to ask. There was no need, and no need to ask why Estel had been so uncontrolled when Elladan and Elrohir were taken. There were some things, Elrond determined, too personal, especially for a boy in such delicate years and having been so recently and severely disturbed. "Only one question further: What did you see when you went into the abandoned house the last night in Eregion?"  
  
Estel met the eyes on his foster father one last time, his gaze more intense than before but fluttering, as though troubled. Could he lie to the person who had cared for him, looked after him, forgiven him, taught him, and loved him for so long as he remembered? The one person who had expressed again and again that virtue was of great importance? Was it in his heart? "I saw a dead woman," he replied, "and her two dead children, and a pie cooling on the stove."  
  
"Thank you, Estel," Elrond said, hardly believing. "You are free to go, but I would like you to know that I. . .I am always here, if you ever need to talk about any of this."  
  
Estel rose. He inclined his head. "Thank you," he said, and turned to go.  
  
Elrond watched his son leave, and knew that something had changed, something he could not heal. It was times like these that made him feel insignificant. "Estel," he said, jumping to his feet. The boy paused, then turned and walked slowly back across the room, stopping against just before the Elven lord. "Estel. . ." He could not find the words, and at last knelt to see eye-to-eye, placing one hand on either one of Estel's shoulders. 'Show some feeling!' he wanted to shout. 'Anything to show that you are still alive!' Could this wraith-like form truly be his Estel? "Oh, child," Elrond said, a broken half-sobbed, and he held the boy tightly for a long moment. Estel did not respond to this but stood, as though enduring what had once passed for a gesture of comfort. When Elrond released the boy his eyes were as dull as ever, and the healer was nearing tears. "Is there anything that I can do?" he asked.  
  
"Only one thing," Estel replied. "Send me out again."  
  
*****  
  
Legolas left for Mirkwood forest the next day. He and Estel bowed to each other and the Elf kissed the mortal boy on the brow, and told him to care for himself and to be strong. "I will see you soon," Legolas promised, and indeed looked forward to that occasion. There was some strength in the boy, and after everything, Legolas was amazed that he did not cry or mope, but made use of himself. Already he had spent hours in the Hall of Healing. "Perhaps before the year is out, if circumstance permits."  
  
Estel made no reply, but stood as a statue and watched the sun sink below the horizon.  
  
*****  
  
~The End~  
  
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The next story in this series, 'Colder Than It Looks Outside', has already been posted and is a work in progress. As Aragorn recounts a tale for Pippin, the comrades journey back to Eregion, where something foul lurks in the air. Preview paragraphs: "Are you giving up, adan?"  
  
"No, sindar, you confuse me with yourself."  
  
Legolas laughed and redoubled his efforts against his friend. The old Ranger could use it, he thought, not because this was true but because it amused him to think it. Strider did not return the Elf's smile, which suited them both just fine. Years had spun the two together, and so when Strider did not smile Legolas knew that he was smiling within but was not as liberal with his outward emotional appearance. It was much easier not to think of how this had come to be.  
  
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There are many other stories in this series, which I am hoping to tackle two at a time (one of little Estel and one of older Estel). All the summaries are in my biography, any particular requests for stories sooner than others will be taken into account. And remember, good readers review (please)! 


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